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Marcel Khalife
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In damascus
In Damascus the doves fly behind the silk fence two by two
In Damascus I see all of my language written with a woman's needle on a grain of wheat edited by the partridge of the Mesopotamian rivers
In Damascus dialogue goes on between the violin and the oud, and about the endings: whenever a woman kills a passing lover she attains the Lotus Tree of Heaven!
In Damascus a gazelle sleeps next to a woman in a bed of dew, the woman takes off her dress and covers Barada with it!
In Damascus a bird picks at what is left of wheat in my palm and leaves for me a single grain to show me my tomorrow tomorrow
In Damascus Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com the jasmine dallies with me: Don't go far, follow my tracks. The garden becomes jealous: Don't come near the blood of night in my moon
In Damascus I count my ribs and return my heart to its trot, perhaps the one who granted me entry to her shadow has killed me and I didn't notice
In Damascus I write in a woman's journal: All that's in you of narcissus desires you and no fence, around you, protects you from your night's excess allure
In Damascus the traveler sings to himself: I return from Syria neither alive nor dead but as clouds that ease the butterfly's burden from my fugitive soul
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