Creative Writing

The Beginning of Speech

The child I was came to me
once,
a strange face
                He said nothing              We walked
each of us glancing at the other in silence, our steps
a strange river running in between
 
We were brought together by good manners
and these sheets now flying in the wind
then we split,
a forest written by earth
watered by the seasons’ change.
 
Child who once was, come forth—
What brings us together now,
and what do we have to say?

- Adonis, tr. Khaled Mattawa