Introduction to If You Were Mine (Book of Arabic Poetry By George El-Hage)

No, I shall not tell you that I became a poet. The day I read joy and sadness in your smile and witnessed the sun rising in your eyes, I abandoned my heart, crucified on the ivory ramparts of your face, and setting sail, I strove to navigate the deep waters of inspiration. That day, I discovered my inner self in the mirror of your pure love, and I vowed to tell you this in words. These are some of them.

You are aware that I consider myself responsible before you for the many words yet left unsaid, more so than those recounted.

Possibly my arrival would be delayed tomorrow. I must prepare myself well. The journey for a poet is long and provisions costly and burdensome.

Perhaps I would find you watching for me and would forget the hardships of travel. Perhaps the sun could have set in your eyes, your black lashes drawing the curtain on the windows of waiting. I know I would be plunged in sorrow. For I have made all the preparations. I would leave the memory of my anguish planted in a tear and write upon its looking-glass: “If you were mine.”