1 Time runs, runs As a thief hunted by a policeman Drawing his big gun. Time drowns As a child breathing his last breaths In front of us; the poor who are created Without hands and feet. 2 Time is an old man As good as his white beard. But when I wanted to bid him farewell I was shocked by his room Full of the remains of henna Full of usurers, hangmen, and harlots Together with their giggles, trifles and heavy breaths. 3 Time is my letters and points Surrounding me with clock’s hands. Time is my hours that search In vain for two good arms, Two lips compact with warmth and blossoms. 4 Time is an urn in which delight Was poured, Then set at my heart’s shelf. But the black cats broke the urn. I did not go out to drive them off Because my heart died of bleeding, Died of delight. 5 Time is a woman who stripteases Before dogs with high backs, Strong and delightful as their lifted tails. 6 Time is a mother who dropped Her child from the iron bridge In fear of hunger. Thus her infant cried on his drowning brother For full forty years. 7 Time is a myth that we try to draw And modify by false colors And stick our naive poems On its ruined wall. 8 Time is my friends who died Without reason, Except that they puzzled a little Before the ghost of love Or the ghost of death. 9 Time is a candle that does not give up Spreading darkness. And days that are seized and charged of striptease In the markets. 10 Time is a lute, a tambourine, and a pipe Drowning in the warmth of your song. That hunts me From one street to another, From one house to another. 11 Time is unbearable noise And infinite silly things And clack that deafens the ears. 12 Time is a bullet. You must quietly stand before its course So that it will get your good heart!