MUHAMMAD AL- LAGHAFY
Moderator 
MUHAMMAD AL- LAGHAFY
THE SAXOPHONIST
The water and I are alike
Both of us embracing our reflection from love.
Praise be to the light
To the first sight
To the shyness nestled in the eyes
To a metaphor that wandered into the courtyard of illusion.
O lineage that believed in stone
And the registry of civil status
And the coffin of last September
And the signs of those returning from the exile of myths
And the chaos of the new conquerors.
No room now accommodates the activists of love
And no sound of the dead invade the afternoon nap
Nor does a poetic text draw inspiration from absence
In the presence of a harlot who masters the hunt of seasons.
Perhaps what is to come is fiercer than the claws of the owner of the celestial boat.
No need for a mask
And the moss was celestial too
Astonishing with a face where the wind whistles.
And here I remember the face of my friend lost to the depths
How many extraordinary lifetimes do I need to find you in the reckless cup
My resurrected friend – the one who dallied with nothingness
Bringing about oblivion, disobedience, arrogance, and pride
And dances with the air tinged with the scent of women violated by the night.
Thanks to the saxophonist
A model of pampered splendor
A question of indulgence penetrates you deeply.
Translation into English by Taghrid Bou Merhi
