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”.
A wild woman
Poem Arabic translated by Monia Zguidi
I say ...
Why don't I go astray Burdened by winter
Probing into the realm of the poem ?
That's why my mother told me :
Don't drink milk with the jerk
Ride towards the north of the night ….
And drink her face ...
No shadow left you ; but what befalls you
Is the alienation of exiles upon the last cloud
That splintered in the tavern of the night
In fact ….
you desire nothing but a wild woman ….
Bones of a tree that changes its clothes for your forthcoming wedding
And a poem that wets the hair of water with a ballad ...
Thus we parted like a hug ….
Therefore, my son you have to woo your wound ...
So that you pick up an amazement from her lips
Come in and let the sun bathe her face in your hands ...
Let the coal of the story blaze with your longing
Dwell in fire to warm up the poem
On the shadow of the factors
Definitely the lightening will dwell stealthily in her cup of coffee.
So you become ....
The stature of roses ... and a tavern of tears
Then at the extremity of the threads of poetry
Bathe in the salt of her lips
Lay the absence on fire ….
So that the rose grows old with her bleeding fragrance
And the poem peeps on my fingertips
The evening smells the metaphor
excessive in counting its fingertips
The spikes yearn for the call ....
And the story remains like a tattoo on the shoulder of
Poem is Arabic translated by Fethi Sassi
I do not reflect on eternity
But all the history is that I rebuke
the wind in the introduced poem ….
I roistering as god does in the poet‘s funeral ceremony
I lie down on a tree border embracing baby fruit
embroider my face on my shoulder
and scatter climates of nostalgia …
For suckling desire from bundle talk
But the milk cries if breate history is gushing out
a dream lost on the sly with peeps stars …..
I have no face to wet my confusion in a sky
for a new happiness
I will seclude in the bottom of the absence
And scratch his extravagant night …
Intimidate the silence to the resignation of
and collect pebbles to court ache flutes ….