Part II of Sojourn of Poverty and Revolution by `Abdul-Wahab Al-Bayyati (my translation):
-2-
I called by the traveling ships
by the migrant swans
by a night, rainy despite the stars
by autumn leaves, by eyes
by what was, and will be
by fire, and bushes
by the deserted street
by drops of water, by bridges
by the destroyed star
by the aging memories
by all the clocks of dark houses
by word
by the painter's brush
by the shadow and colors
by sea and sailor
that we burn
so that sparks can emerge
from us to lighten
the cry of rebels
and to awaken the rooster
which died on the wall
-3-
He chases me mercilessly
blocking me with darkness
the streets of of this city
which slept without a star
He shows up from my glass
and rests on the chair
his newspaper covers his
naked half
his cigarette is not lighted
his nails are inside me
black ice and ashes of rain
Is that you through the glass
of the cafe of night in the rain?
Without eyes like destiny
under your steps in my trail
chasing me to my house
Is that you my neighbor?
As if the streets of cities
are threads from you my shroud
chasing me
hanging me
on the window of a hospital
and from exile to exile
blocking me with darkness
the streets of the cities that
slept without a star
Is there no mercy in your
heart of stone?
(to be continued)