في ذكرى الأسد الليبي

Your night has fallen;
the brilliant light
of the new moon
filtering through the
broken mass of clouds,
a brilliant ray reflecting
upon your tongue-kissed works.
Your words remains standing,
redeeming the world from darkness:
they seem to move and
we are filled with awee.

Your words were mountains;
iron-like masses thrown heavily
against the somber Libyan sky –
and as the dark blue deepens
into purple and purple-black
we reflect upon your works,
which were gurgling streams
of naked visceral truth
cutting through our consciousnesss.

One never thinks of velvet
when the light is cold and thin;
when snow lies deep
But your life was velvet in the
silver light of diplomacy
and we shall rememberr.