By: Khaled Darwish * Didn’t you close the door behind you when you entered the strip club? And you yelled: bring me the waist of the waters; You hug Jerusalem Touching the girl’s breast with your eyes, One morning that spilled, We spilled and our means of living are expanding, And whenever a bird sang inside us, we picked our weapons, For a journey and a creed, For a coming wedding and another leaving behind The fields upon the winds that the dreamers will set its fires, And all the dictionaries are lean, Yearning for a Firozabad** ruling the powers […]