Best Poem of Habib Tengour

Caesura - I.
If he comes to interrogate a half-burned trace,
he does so impelled by an atavism or rather
a jealously guarded technique.
He has woven the poem in secrecy.
Months of retreat in the desert,
at the mercy of the winds,
so as to conform to the tradition.
Chaffing and the whip.
The echo's . . .
Read the full of Caesura - I.
Caesura - V.
There's nothing. Renew the experience?
The pain loses all materiality.
At the moment of breaking camp,
the heart grows heavy.
The eye contracts. An empty horizon.

That's no problem! The pleasures of the body are not futile.
They illuminate the soul like the lamp of the hermit…
On the Euphrates, t . . .
Read the full of Caesura - V.