Talk of the Heart: A Love Story — Dedicated to the Souls of the Victims of the Earthquake in Lebanon

Talk of the Heart

"Dedicated to the souls of the victims of the earthquake in Lebanon"

She chokes on tears and gasps, a young girl in the age of roses,
Sorrow wipes the lovely face with a mute pallor,
And the east wind scorches her disheveled hair,
Sitting cross-legged on the dark earth — on the path —
The hoarse voice comes out of her breast,
Scattered scraps of ... a love story.
Distracted, her eyes nailed fast
On all that is left to her — an infant clinging to her,
Understanding not, grasping not, a single letter of the tragedy.

★

The night is newborn, breathing slowly, in the pitch-black dark,
And the people of the peaceful village — how happy they were — some asleep, some keeping late company,
By the drowsy, friendly lamp, telling with its red tongue
Tales of heroism and daring ... and love!

★

She was with him when the earthquake surged, mad, roaring
... As if he were before her. Patting her shoulder. Hurrying her on: —
— Don't be afraid, my darling; escape with our child, and I will follow.
And he vanished into the darkness ...

★

Was it the pistol he went back for, O Lord?
Or the money-purse? ... She does not know ...
She remembers ... that a tremendous rumbling ... burst from the belly of the earth,
Its echoes resounding through the folds of the mountain.
And she turned to see — woe to her — her little house and the houses of the village
All crushed in a terrible ruin,
Their roofs meeting the ground!!

★

The girl is still choking on tears and gasping ...
Sitting cross-legged there, on the dark earth — on the path —
Her veins fevered, her nerves shattered,
The hoarse voice comes out of her breast,
Scattered scraps of .... a love story!!