She is sitting behind the carpet loom,
Her ebony hair, untouched by age, loosened behind her back,
Weaving one by one, line after line,
The single-looping knots of her life
I remember, she saw the flowers even before they appeared on the carpet
I remember sitting next to her behind the loom
The smell of Lavender and Saffron * filled my lungs
I remember asking her to tell me a new story
One of the many stories she knew,
Her never-ending tales, like Scheherazade’s
I remember the colors changing
By the warmth of her thin fingers
They started dancing in my soporific eyes
Dancing in ruby azure, violet, green, and white …
The boundless dance of the colors, like her never-ending tales,
Is only a beginning of my memories.
Her ebony hair, untouched by age, loosened behind her back,
Weaving one by one, line after line,
The single-looping knots of her life
I remember, she saw the flowers even before they appeared on the carpet
I remember sitting next to her behind the loom
The smell of Lavender and Saffron * filled my lungs
I remember asking her to tell me a new story
One of the many stories she knew,
Her never-ending tales, like Scheherazade’s
I remember the colors changing
By the warmth of her thin fingers
They started dancing in my soporific eyes
Dancing in ruby azure, violet, green, and white …
The boundless dance of the colors, like her never-ending tales,
Is only a beginning of my memories.
Dance of Colors, Lavender and Saffron, June 2008
* Yesterday inspired by Song of Songs (Song of Solomon) I bought a bouquet of Lavender; its existence has filled my lungs ever since reminding me of Aziz, my grandmother. It is funny that small details are sometimes so persistent in staying in the memory, vivid details in colors and even more in scents. From Song of Solomon:
"You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride;
you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.
Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
with choice fruits,
with henna and nard,
nard and saffron,
calamus and cinnamon,
with every kind of incense tree,
with myrrh and aloes
and all the finest spices.
You are [b] a garden fountain,
a well of flowing water
streaming down from Lebanon."
you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.
Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
with choice fruits,
with henna and nard,
nard and saffron,
calamus and cinnamon,
with every kind of incense tree,
with myrrh and aloes
and all the finest spices.
You are [b] a garden fountain,
a well of flowing water
streaming down from Lebanon."