I shed my tears; my tears – my consolation; And I am silent; my murmur is dead, My soul, sunk in a depression’s shade, Hides in its depths the bitter exultation. ( Alexandre Poushkin )

Category: English Page 1 of 2

Crying tears

A dry spring of grapes
A slandered body
Coercive misfortune
Completion of life cycle
Without immune
Tired secrets from traveling
Unable to resist a youthful journey
Unlike what it used to be,
Deepened wrinkles
On crystals of cluster
Streams of fatigue tattooed on the forehead
Under a cold shadow
Within cracks of an old pyramid
Tired, sleepy eyes
Dangling lids
In a deep sleep.
Shaky legs
Tired bare steps
In burning sands.
The end of a journey
Between alleys of life
Behind the cruelty of dreams.
The sauce dried out
With autumn’s winds
Even oversight
Won’t be able
To repair the wounds.
Here , there’s no arrogance or differentiation
Departing under feet of progress .
A body climbing down a cliff towards ash
Its soul, crystals of lilies
Shining in the sky
Tears droplets
Anguish of a gagged grief

A matchstick

A matchstick

A stick , with a burning head
A tiny star
Instinct of slow death grew In its mist.
Chandeliers hanging from dust.

I bolt my eyes .
A hot silent atmosphere
Without a light,
Another night .
Carefully I gaze my thoughts behind curtains of needles .
river of questions
crashing oblivion.

A stick, with a burning head
A planet suffering from the dust within the ego
And its prey .

Inside the poet

Inside the poet

When we found both of us
We were in the same latency
You are over sunrises way
But i was the lap of the darkness

In my eyes
Why are you beautiful like that?
Because i bathe you every night..!

I am
a damned poem
You are my sly
You shade me by your tangled fingers

Don’t ask me
about a indian ocean farness
and Atlantic
How do I sleep
for me..?

There.. you
Here.. me
We are the reflection
Of eternity mysteries
Your mouth,
that whispers to my heart
Has no tongue
Silent lips
Pros is their wine
Poetry is their drunkenness

Oh you
I am
Forest of poems
leave it
Before its burning
Before the extinction of my soul

Larbi Houmaidi@2019

A Conversation with shadows

A Conversation with shadows

Between your lips
Drops of bitterness
Lingering words
Exchanging tears
On water Flows
Ruins of fear
An invisible barrier
Dug by cruelty
In the far twilight
Waiting for release
Stray leaf
With spring winds…
Suspensions and doubts
Stifling trenches
A Drifting kneeling shadow
With a dark night charm .
Blue colored numbers
In deep heavy darkness.
In allusion , lips quiver
To douse out the flames
Of deep ocean.
A life experience ,
Sail affliction clouded by winds
For a wisdom that reverberate in battles .
Dray groans in dry lips .



Timorous thoughts
Deep yellowish leaves
Blurry spirits
Philosophy of daily hypothesis
Dairies of empty nights
Fall of morning light
Embracing silent ghosts
A temporary journey
Changing/ shifting
Autumn of life
Dances of a loss exile
Gloomy space
Dark purity nights.
whims born in shadows
Layers of oblivion
Its cruel languages disappear
Within mirage light.
Velvet sounds
Disappearance veils
Everything is possible
Nothing is possible
Life mirrors
Sculpturing with a stone
Its smoke,
Hidden… escaping winds
Maybe I am… you
Thou living
In cloud world
Fed on
Spirits of fog
Hidden within darkness .

Lightening of a Thunderbolt

Lightening of a Thunderbolt

Lava beam
On a water lake
A thunderbolt
On the body
Awakened dead senses
From hibernation.
A touch desire spikes
Caves chased by
Flames of rebellious fire
Following me everywhere
Insights of fire
Tongues sweeping words
Whenever night falls
Driving me crazy
Moon of affection
Towards lands of oversights .
A Trembling body
Hidden secrets
On a water rock
Alleys wearing confusion
A Birth
In obstinacy rush
Chained loaded clouds
And I drink from the winery
Of Poetry
And darkness of gloom
Saddled of whims rip
Longing groan
Ignites fire
Pleasure seeds
Lightning and thunder unite
In gasp of disbelieve
A body ,
Searching for pleasure
Asleep but won’t sleep
The Heat of noon ,
A moor of pain.


Under my feet
Blended with my steps
Swirling around my ears
Reminding me of my patience
A snuffle / a Question / a fear
Grim poems
shrines of sleeplessness
Dusk of eyes
Guiding me
A Spiral calling me/tempting me
In labyrinth
On its shore, I’m exiled.
Sand, with devoured corners
Hiding me With veil of patience
Tell me
Thou crutch of blind patience
Has gates
I was the one
Now we are three
Shadows of a cadaver under roof of ruins
And bells
Knocked by fragments of laughter
And a mind
Doomed with cries of nights
A Sacrifice every night
On ascents of call
swarms of agony
Hanging in fog
Tears of dew droplets
dream flakes
Exits a mortal cadaver
Mirrors expose what tunnels hid
In lobbies of trauma.

Flames of grime

Ignites Illusion
A glance of doubt
A heavy worried sight
Flames of grime
Dark groans
Bathing with moaning rains.
My self steam rise
And there,
Ghosts talk
With heated shadows
Whereas days
Are playing games of loss
Sometimes taking me there
Where my dreaded voice fade within appeal
Haze of pride
Buried within
A dream growing on clay streams
Cold light
Empty soul
Pushing / hunting
Strayed void
A sepulcher of soul
A desert ,
Mirage of its pulse
Buried water .

Tears of cherries

“Tears of cherries” is a thoughtful and wise collection of verses featuring more then 60 poems which I had the pleasure to translate to the English language under the request of my dear uncle, Larbi Houmaidi.
I tried my best to forward the writer’s thoughts and emotions as well as keeping the aesthetic and expressive values of this literary work , emphasising the beauty of the words , figurative language, metaphor.. etc.
This anthology of poems carry themes that touch on universal experiences like life, death , love and loss. And Even though themes of grief and loneliness are displayed throughout almost every poem ,there are choking moments of happiness and gratitude , tenderness and tenacity . These moments are shattered and bruised , taken and incomplete, But they keep resurrecting – if briefly . Even in the bleakest moments , there is a memory , the ghost of a lover , a small joy haunting these poems .
From the highest mountain to the simple flower , Nature is highly present in Larbi’s verses Providing a means to express his elevated thoughts and passionate emotions .
Thus , Larbi’s poems vacillate between having straightforward meanings and requiring deep interpretation all of which makes this work a worth-reading piece of literature.

The hum of ruin


Larbi asked me to edit this collection in English. I tried my best and was honoured but of course what remains silent is the space between Arabic and English. My attempts to bridge the tone was supported by poetry’s largesse of reach and those universal resonances in the very human journey of love.
This collection is a deeply personal testament of a period in Larbi’s life. The words plumb the depths of longing unfulfilled to the resentment of betrayal.
Wolf’s smile chills and allures equally. Coal Balls cries for time to slow and ease its exacting price. The reader is shown the writer’s supplication in Peregrinate Body and awed stillness in Birch Tree Hymn.
Black Swallow Tail shows the interface between the old and new, the timelessness of love while pricking western sensibilities.
All through out these poems sing the ancient hymns of the Atlas Mountains and footfalls of the Berber in a modern era of liberal hearts and minds to choose and the uncertainties which newer traditions of freedom bring. A journey of exhilarating highs and devastating lows which only the heart can sustain are candidly poured out in Larbi’s verse.
by Clare (CL) Rolfe

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