Our life is burden on the shoulder of the historian

As much as I hide them they reappear to me from the absence

And our life is a burden on the shoulder of the painter

I paint them and become one of them and the fog folds me

Our life is a burden on the shoulder of the general

How is it possible that a ghost bleed?

And our life is to be the way we want to be

And to live a little   Just to respect the resurrection after this death

And unintentionally the quoted the words of the philosopher

“Death means nothing to us, be it and we are not. Be us and it is not”

Then they rearranged their dreams in a different way and slept standing

Mahmoud Darwish