It is in my blood
To leave in two weeks,
Let the torrid plains fall behind
And await the welcoming arms

Yet instead around a table
Giggling and waving hands
Over luggage, towels, and laundry baskets
Marriage or college, little different

As I cannot truly live
In "our" conception—
Fî Amrîkâ—
Restless

Cannot bear one place
Yet too many books
To join the Bedouin
And live nowhere turn into nowhere

"When you came back from Egypt..."
A shell, not whole, yet newly whole—
"... Part of you did not; it stayed there..."
For those who have drunk from the Nile
"... I hope you find your way back someday..."
Shall one day return—
"... That's where your heart is.
"It did not come back with the rest of you."

Despite dreams aborted
And hopes abandoned
And distant estrangement from the world—alone—
In torment

Rebelling against
This pale shadow of life
The flow of the Nile,
The call of the minaret

Live on, recalling
Hayâ wi môt fî nafs ilmakân
Yet can it overcome
While crawling to khamsa wa `ishrîn to pray ....