At Dalal Al-Mufti’s, air was fragrant
With Virginian Tobacco, smell of
Exotic flowers and of wine from a South France farm.
At Dalal Al-Mufti’s, summer was transparent as a net shirt.
I do not know how all these people congregated there, and why.
But I met like a sting or a lightning that Yellow, that yellow dress.
The yellow dress will be my dwelling.
Andrea will be my woman.
Translated by the author
* This is the opening page of my new Poetry Book , titled @ Andrea’s Profile.