He tried, over and over, to draw himself in the mirror,
 but in vain;
 As he lays down his first lines,
 show instead of hair,
 bramble bushes and bushes,
 And orchards teeming with nests.
 on his broad forehead,
 The stalks of the plant are cleaved
 canyons and slopes,
 The croaking of frogs is heard at the end of the evening.
 in the place of the nose,
 A Sumerian obelisk stands out of flint.
 And paints two eyes heavy with sorrows,
 Then what else?
 like an old wound
 afraid to touch it,
 And do not complete the drawing!

     Painting by Amir Khatib