...continuation of the poem Sojourn of Poverty and Revolution by `Abdul-Wahab Al-Bayyati (my translation):
-4-
A stranger I was in my homeland
and in exile
She will open her mouth tomorrow
to ask me
to crucify me
on the window of a hospital
Oh,
how far you are my homeland
like a dream through the window
of a train, I see you in sleep
your palmtrees in the fog
of morning, awakened me
Is that you my destiny?
Dragging behind you carriages
and the dead
planting traps and stealing smiles
and submerging these forests
in darkness
birds without nests
and you bang with a shovel on
the gate of dawn
to dig my grave in the hotels of these cities
that died, and their spring has died
to award my salary to the cafe's servant
Rich you are my poverty
thieves will rob you, without
your knowledge
-5-
-Do you hear the cry of the rooster?
-Is it Revolution?
-An angel you are with a
rose over his forehead
He says to his neighbor and
mews like a cat
-as if the night is a guitar
but the singer is silent
and his sky is mute and broken
and my neighbor flips the chair
and sinks his eyes, while laughing,
in my glass
-I sell you the head of Venus for
two piasters
and my paintings and the rag
of that dervish will be a debt
-I sell you this candle
if you light it, wings of ecstasy
will carry you to a fortress
where humans don't get bored inside
and don't suffer or age
He spends his life in its eternal
night and not dream
of cries of birds
and the birth of roses
-But the winds, will extinguish
the candle
and will sink the fortress
-my neighbor will burn himself
and that heavy mountain will
stay without light
Oh, will this rock speak?
And will she open its mouth tomorrow
And water runs in it drop by drop
and a rose will sprout on it
and nights of silence will carry
me to the cafe
homeless without a shelter
roaming the streets of cities
that slept without a star
on his cane, and disappears
into the darkness
(to be continued)