كلمات الحنين الاخر

The longing within me is of a different kind, Different from the one that swells
The breast of time.
Things come up to this longing,
As if it were their closest friend,
And say:
“Without it, we’d never have come into being.”
It seems bigger than it really is, It rises up, stretches out
Is forever unsatisfied,
It wants to leave its own casing, Embrace heaven and earth.