A moon in the farthest reaches of speech

Between the beautiful Hashemite woman whom Al-Abbas bin Al-Ahnaf saw one morning: "She was walking around her with the eyes of a gazelle," and the Spanish beauty who was near Omar Abu Risha (on a plane), and who captivated him with her logic: "Scattered perfume everywhere," a towering distance extends for the story of poetry with the imagined event, with the past born from the womb of the future, with reality; not necessarily as it happened, but as it should be narrated and depicted. And when Jasim As-Saheeh admits that: "I rarely loved," does this mean that the love incidents depicted in dozens of romantic poems in his collections were nothing but a veiled imagination and wildness in portrayal? But.. do we really care – as readers of poetry – to verify whether these events actually occurred as the poetry depicted? Time after time, poetry appears before us as shadows coming from the future, as if it is the devil of possibilities; it is mostly not what happened, but what did not happen, and what could have happened. It can.. but for some reason, due to some breakage, due to some enchantment.. it did not happen. And because it did not happen: poetry is born; as an artistic compensation for the lost experience, and as a recreating of the incomplete story.