وأَقولُ لنفسي : سيطلع من عَتْمتي قَمَرُ... - Mahmoud Darwish

حين تبدو السماءُ رماديّةً
وأَرى وردة نَتَأَتْ فجأةً
من شقوق جدارْ
لا أقول : السماء رماديّةٌ
بل أطيل التفرُّس في وردةٍ
وأَقول لها : يا له من نهارْ !

My poems do not deliver mere images and metaphors; but deliver landscapes, villages and fields, deliver a place. It makes that which is absent from geography present in its form, that is, able to reside in the poetic text, as if residing on his land. I don’t think that a poet is entitled to a greater happiness than that some people seek refuge in his lines of poetry, as if they were real houses. Indeed, in Arabic, there is a nice and unusual homonymy. Both the poetic verse and the house are said “bayt.” As if a man can reside there.

أخاف العيونَ التي تستطيعُ اختراقَ ضِفافي، فقد تبصر القلبَ حافي.. أخاف اعترافي!