Beirut Beauty
Beirut is full of almost,
Too much beauty,
The sky, the sun,
The breathing of the sea.
The roses, the remains,
Beneath your feet,
The pulsing energy,
Magnetic on every street.
The ancient and modern,
Twisted together,
In the infinite white light,
Of its sun drenched weather.
Mountains above with snow,
Lapped by beaches below,
Cedars, pomegranates, roses,
Grapes, paradise grows.
The people Druze,
Maronite, Muslim faces,
New York, Paris,
From all places.
It is no wonder,
In such a Garden of Eden,
It is not quite as it seems,
Humans always fall,
From their heaven,
They destroy and crack.
But somehow the beauty,
Of Beirut also surges back.