FETHI SASSI - I DO NOT REMEMBER WELL... IT WAS SOMETHING RESEMBLING HER FACE

​Poet FETHI SASSI was born on the 1st of June 1962 in Nabeul Tunisia . A writer of prose poetry and short poems. He participated in several national literary meetings. A member in the Tunisian Writers' Union. And member in the Literature Club at the cultural center of Sousse. His first book of poetry entitled "A Seed of Love" was published in the year 2010. The second entitled “ I dream …. And “I sign on birds the last words " in 2013. The third book of poetry " a sky for a strange bird “ in Egypt. And a short poem book entitled “All the universe is only the face of my beloved”.

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                I do not remember well ... It was something  
                                      resembling her face 

Poem in arabic  fethi sassi 
TRASLATED BY MONIA ZGUIDI 
 
 
 
She was drinking the rainbow  … 
Hiding behind the bottle of absence 
I do not remember well  ...  It was something resembling her face 
I was with her drinking my retreat 
Upon the arm of an apologizing flute ...  
But the night revealed to her its fragrance  
And invited her to sleep on the note of love ... 
Her face blazed with poetry ; she melted as a poem  
She is still , as usual , looking from the window of time 
Like a butterfly bearing in the fingertips a sob that engraves  
Memory  ... 
Thus names dangled for her like desperate bunches on the ramparts of a poem .... 
 
That's why... 
I do not leave her dream early until choose to the wind the stones of oblivion 
I sleep with her and on the hand of the evening a kiss hangs like  
dreams of a kitten ... 
A lip that sheds clouds on the groves of amazement 
Me  ... I will steal a star and hide in the mist of words 
So, alone ,the night ascends the ladder of time , chatting with a butterfly of amazement. 
At the window of my heart I weave climates to the forthcoming seasons 
So, spread to me a wish in the emptiness ... 
Kiss me! your spittle is enough for me to drown  …. 
You , a face absent from my poems 
Open to me the sun gate to drink my storm , 
for I see behind the absence a raining cloud upon her obstinate cup  
of coffee 
Like the sore sunset smile 
Like the evening tale 
So be lenient waves !! 
My fingertips care about her absence. 
Her kiss is a hole poem ..... 
Let's enter together the dungeons of her body 
There we shall knead the clay of the story ; and venture in the folds of its charm 
We never care about the alchemy of kisses ... 
But I do not remember well...It was something resembling her face...