I still don't know what goes through women's heads

I was in love for fifty years
I still don't know what goes through women's heads
What do they think?
How do they plan?
How do they arrange their things?
How do they train their breasts?
On hit-and-run
Invasion and plunder
Peace and war
And death in Pride Square

I read a book about femininity, letter by letter
I have not yet learned anything about the alphabet
I still feel that I love you in the time of ignorance
Then henna your hair using pre-Islamic methods
I still feel that passion is in the land of Arabism
It is nothing but an ignorant invasion
I spent half my life on Nahdik Street
I still don't know where the exit door is
Where are the ends of this space?

I still don't know how Nahd is threatened by childhood
Security of men and security of heaven
I moved between bottles of your perfume for fifty years
Between the groves of your hair is fifty years
There are fifty years between the measurements of your waist
I still don't know how to decipher the letters of the alphabet
How do I untie braids?
How do I remove the pins from it?

The hour of judgment has struck and winter tears have flowed
Vicki got deeply, deeply involved
Until I reached the state of manifestation
And the state of identification
And the solutions
And the state of the yard and I still don't know what the difference is
Between the smell of a female body and the smell of chestnut

I entered the school of love fifty years ago
From there I left with a hidden longing
I took a Sufism lesson from scratch
The lesson of austerity was zero
And the lesson of contentment is zero
And the lesson of humility is zero
The lesson of romantic love is zero
But I only excelled in studying madness

Love haunts me until my death
Is it my destiny to be Al-Hussein, and are your lips Karbala?
The woman wore a shirt on me
I thought my shirt was silk
And when the cold and the snow came
I made sure I wore open clothes.