Conflagrations

You there, seated opposite me, within reach of love,
May I borrow your smile
Long enough for a poem?
Occasionally my sorrow betrays me,
And I see you
Sailing off, a resplendently silent prince.
You are, simply put, my alter ego.
You force me to don my disappointments
And strip streets of their astonishment.
I live with you when dreaming
And quit you while awake,
To say:
How miserable love is to envy us
Till we find no legal lifetime in which to confess to one another
We’re lovers
. . . . .
Many peoples were said to agree on this, and
Their most forceful version has been total silence;
You find no one who substitutes a drizzle of words for it.
. . . .
How astounding the results are when you’re the one by whom I measure myself,
I, who possess more sorrow than I can expend.
Note:(Gardenia Perfume)
I say your name and acknowledge your existence, not that of other folk;
…………
It was said: a woman once donned confession like a sash
And met the wave’s crest to announce:
“Praise God Who created me with a tongue to voice my love for you, a heart enamored of your shadow, and an eye that sheds only hot tears. Praise to Him 
for making you my lover, even if you are separated from me and unresponsive to my plea.”
Then the sea appeared to her as a question:
“Why do I see you dissolve like a grain of salt that water melts with its sigh?”
She replied, “That’s because I gazed into eyes you haven’t seen.”
. . . . . .  .  . . . . .
The holy fool, strolling through the bazaars of Kufa, would become enraged when he saw her.
“You pawn hearts!”
He scolded her.
“How is it that plains, which only you turn green, are not you? 
When you’re always waving farewell to us,
Isn’t bad enough that you leave us behind?
It was said: She turned away from him and ignored what was rumored.
It was said: She garnered what joy she could
And inscribed her grand names on a plaque
She mounted on the back of Separation
…..
In another account we find:
The holy fool shunned joy for many ages
And began to beg for clouds of tears;
It was said: banners raised over the heads of the witnesses
Still weep bitter letters.
Then blistered griefs crush me.

Faleeha Hassan is a poet, teacher, editor, writer, and playwright born in Najaf, Iraq, in 1967, who now lives in the United States. Faleeha was the first woman to write poetry for children in Iraq. She received her master's degree in Arabic literature, and has now published 26 books, her poems have been translated into English, Turkmen, Bosnian, Indian, French, Italian, German, Kurdish, Spain, Korean, Greek, Serbia, Albanian, Pakistani, Romanian, Malayalam, Chinese,
ODIA, Nepali and Macedonian language. She was a Pulitzer Prize Nominee in 2018,
PushCaret Prize Nomination 2019.
Member of International Writers and Artists Association.
Winner of the Women of Excellence Inspiration award from SJ magazine 2020,
Winner of the Grand Jury Award (the Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021)
One of the Women of Excellence selection committees 2023
Winner of women the arts award 2023
Member of Whos’ Who in America 2023
SAHITTO AWARD, JUDGING PANEL 2023
Cultural Ambassador - Iraq, USA
Email : d.fh88@yahoo.com