تكريمات

Yahya As-Samawi

A Selection from:

A Rosary of Beads for Words: Prose Pieces

Translated by: Adil Saleh Az-Zubaydi

(1)

The fisherman sees nothing of the sea but where to throw his bait.

Does not the hawk see nothing of the sky

Save the pigeon?

And the child—

Does not he see of the park

Save the seesaw's rope?

The hungry man sees nothing of the tree

But the fruit.

Likewise, my heart

Sees none of the women of the world

But you !

(2)

Nature has her own book:

The trees are the letters;

The rivers make the ink;

The earth is the paper.

      No one can read it

      Better than

Birds,

Children,

And lovers.

(3)

I shall establish the kingdom of contentment,

And open its valleys for flowers,

Its trees for birds,

Its springs for deer —

A kingdom as wide as wisdom.

Money?

I've got enough of it to buy

Many things:

Perfume for your neck,

A silver bracelet,

A linen dress,

A comb for the braid,

A necklace of beads,

And kohl for your eyes.

And an open ticket,

To enter

The paradise of madness !

(4)

My mouth is a pen

That cannot write

Anywhere better

Than on the notebook

Of your lips.

………………..

………………….

Your body taught me

A different alphabet

That I can read with my fingers.

(5)

It's your firewood, not my oven

That baked the bread of my poems.

It' s the smoke of your suspicions

Not the incense of my burning

That shed the tears of my words.

It's your wind, not my sails

That brought my ship

To the other side

Of the sea of anxiety.

(6)

I know exactly

Where Newton lies,

And where the field is,

Yet I wander

In which oven

Did the tree end up?

And in which stomach

Did the apple settle down?

(7)

I know that the slaves

Are the ones who built

The Pyramids,

The Great Wall of China,

And the Hanging Gardens.

Yet I wander:

Where has their sweat gone?

And their screams under whips?

(8)

The ship has sunk?

Not the port's fault,

It's her fault!

Not her fault,

It's the oars' fault!

Not the oars' fault,

It's the arms' fault!

Not the arms' fault!

It's the head's fault!

Oh!

How many love kingdoms have vanished

Only because one head

Threw  a matchstick into the woods

To melt the ice that had frozen

In his veins?!

(9)

It won't be too long before

The wound avenges on the knife,

The sheep on the wolf,

The tears on the fire-smoke,

The tree on the ax,

The naked on the silk-gloved,

The hungry on the stuffed,

The fetters on their makers,

Nations on go-betweens,

The angels of our certainty

On the devils of their suspicions.

(10)

It won't be too long before

The time comes when

Bread is reconciled with the hungry,

Grass with the desert,

Gardens with lovers.

      This is what I read

      In my book of love

Written with your saliva

On my lips.

...........................

الآراء الواردة في المقال لا تمثل رأي صحيفة المثقف بالضرورة، ويتحمل الكاتب جميع التبعات القانونية المترتبة عليها. (عدد خاص: ملف تكريم الشاعر يحيى السماوي، الخميس 1/1/1431هـ - 17/12/2009)