He happened to turn around,
To see her teasing the drunk ground,
With her bare toes like a spoiled child.
She turned to him , and his oriental eyes
Embraced hers as
An expatriate embracing an old letter
Smelt of his torn homeland.
“Do you love her? ” She asked.
“Who?” He said
“The rain.” She answered.
“Yes I do” He smiled.
“Who do you love more ?Me or her?” She asked.
He smiled affectionately at her,
“Are you jealous of the rain?”He asked .
“The rain is a woman ,isn’t she?” She said.
“Yes it is.For that I love her.
Her dormant revolt is enkindled
By a rain drop breaking gracefully along his lips
Then travels secretly to his covert cities.
She averted her dewy eyes,
Black pearls falling down
Her soft burning cheeks.
He approached her laughing and saying:
You are jealous of the rain aren’t you ?
I love her because she resembles you
You are the rain and she is you .”
Written by arabian roses