FETHI SASSI, Tunisia

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FETHI SASSI, Tunisia 

FETHI SASSI  is a poet, translator, and haiku writer from Tunisia in the north of Africa of international renown , born in the 01-06-1962  in Nabul . Passionate with poetry since the beginning of his life his poems have been featured in numerous journals and anthologies,

He is a member of the union of the Tunisian poet , and the literature

Club of the cultural center of Sousse .

He published his first book entitled ( seed of love ) in 2010 and the second was on 2013 under the name of ( I dream … I sign on birds the last words ) . The third was in Egypt in 2016 ( sky for a strange bird ) , the fourth one is already in Egypt in 2017 ( as a lone rose …

on a chair ) .

the last poetic book in Egypt(I was hanging my face behind the door )

But the translation kept a good part of his work when he begins his first translation book ( And you are the entire poem ) in 2017 , in the

other part he translated a wonderful poetic book to the big Turkish

Poetess H.Karahan ( poems to the shadows ) .

A translated book to Arabic titled ( Poems to Aphrodite ) of the poet

Manolis Algitakis published in Egypt in 2018.

A translated French book in France for the third Arabic book .

( Ciel pour un oiseau étranger ) by l’harmattan in april2018.

He participated in some poetries events in all over the world as he joined in 2017 the international poetry event with international befriended poets in Dalaman turkey .

She didn’t say anything

She …..  didn’t say anything

but she was seducing the wind compass,

then she burnt a poem on my eyebrow ……

She was waiting for me , and writing a speech for the coming storms

every night , I look for my story .

dodging like a rider who lost the dove way  ….

our kisses had the taste of the wind

When I received her hands, and focused on the language of

estrangement .

I asked the wind   :

If her shadow has come back before the dawn looking for me ?

to weep the twilight that is called …… the absence

to forget me like a perfume bottle   ……

Tell her …..

the sadness in my city is a piece of chocolate  ,

eaten by children before the sunset leave,

no, it’s not your face that over talked ,

it was praying alone on the wine   ….

And the rain milk was dropping from the wind nipples

so give me an ear , to ask the twilight: why didnt it wake up early  ?

and let the speech on a cooker , bleeding like a cunning candle  …

Kid of lightning

 

She’s just a woman   ……

I will hang her face on the wall until the gravel get burnt;

that’s why I do not respond

to her whining when she smokes  …..

her eyes are sitting on a bench  , drinking a coffee

the evening is sad  …

she was taming her fingers in the deep question  

and I am usually stupid like a matchstick   ….

full of my silliness   …

the shade and the whiteness’ insane people are conspiring against me

but what does lure me, is the dream in the joints of the absence

because I have never seen in my life  a cigarette puts lipsticks

and lures poets   ….

my nose is not breathing well   ,

but went out for a walk in the neighbors’ yard

it knows the secrets of seduction and ignores the intentions

of the clouds ;  

the wind takes off its clothes and went to bed  ,

then it hung its beauty in the cloud ear….

like the kid of lightning or more seduction

and doesn’t care about its kisses which are dumped amid the poem,

the tree that starves at the night between

dawn and its eyes  ,

is cutting the nails of letters   ;

the clouds sign dreams for the swarm of neglected balconies   …..

and the twilight is some of its lost flavor

and this sky with cracked hands like my old Grandma

on which I hang my mustache on the distances of its childhood

then I sort a maze, streaming like the saliva of faraway distances

a seller for exiles  ;

I was falling like a drop of drunken sweat

From a shivering cheek insists to cry     …..

Taking off its fingers; when the water knocks the anthem doors ,

and asks the absence   ….  :

Not to get drunk alone, and to be kind with the bunches  ….

She used to tell me

No blue except the color of the sea in your eyes  ;

She used to tell me    …..     :

Whenever the night lights my fingers  .

I put a blond star on your lips  ,

so the shadow grows up overtly

Storms from my perfume  .

She used to tell me   …..     :

Your eyes are the way to the lusted sin  ;

opening the doors of eternities to me  ,

until the cloud takes shower on my tresses   .

Draws on the branches of wind a moon from my waiting femininity  ;

and arched lips like a mystic rose from the rain horses   .

he used to tell me   ….    :

I’ m your female  ….  I still love you in spite of

the confusion of elements inside me  .

Take whatever you like from my blood   ;

I’m now a cloud and you became a prophet   .

I’m your female  ……   wet with obedience , prostrate between your

letters  .

So don’t approach my colors  ,  

this is my waist , your eternal bar  .

In order that love picks the more beauty of my names  .

Your female  ….  I’m   ,

desire of devil , east perfume is my waist .

So don’t leave my happiness   .

We are still on the poem stature ,

Sharing love and absence .

………………………

She used to tell me  ….   :

Flying like love , coming to my cities  ,

Wearing the clay , wearing the losses  .

You‘re oppressive   ;

Wielding your night to the face of a song  ;

And you cry lonely in the waiting  .

I will rain elegant drizzles on your lips  .

Indeed , we are a mixture of mud and dreams  .

Don’t enter my night lonely , and don’t recommend the darkness  .

I’m still hanging the lights in the mud  .

No blue only the love color in your eyes   ..

She used to tell me       .

 

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