The Mount

They creep slowly

                     and spread gradually

                                      all over the mountain,

                                                                      like locusts.

  Locusts

          with sharp metallic teeth,

                                            with which they chip

                                      and gnaw

                               at the mountain,

                          at the very heart

                     of the mountain,

               down to its very core.

      Until it is vanished.

It is no more.

And I stand alone

                  in front of the relics

                                        of an ancient ethos

                                                    that will never return.

                                                                           And I burn,

                                                                                    in vain I burn

                                                                                      in my yearning for it,

                                                                                                                                      to return.

 May 1998

Note: The mount in question is Mount Qassayoun is the hill overlooking Damascus and is considered one of its most famous symbols.