Silence
Iraqi poet: Saadi Youssef
Winds that do not blow in the evening,
and winds that do not blow at dawn
have burdened me with a book of boughs.
I see my cry in the silence.
Night descends, blue, between staircases and stars. I see
blue trees, abandoned streets, and a country of sand.
I had a home and lost it.
I had a home and left it.
How close the stars are!
They cling to my steps. O blue trees, blue woods, night!
We have ended up in a world
collapsing or beginning or dying....
...Which country have you come to now?
Here, you will open a door to a torture chamber.
And one day in a garden
you will see your arms, your eyes, or your speeding heart.
But you are strong today, say your word. Say it,
for after tomorrow you will begin to die.
The winds that do not blow in the evening,
the winds that do not blow at dawn.
I am beautified with the book of boughs;
and I see my cry in others' eyes.
***
November 3, 1974
Iraqi poet: Saadi Youssef
Winds that do not blow in the evening,
and winds that do not blow at dawn
have burdened me with a book of boughs.
I see my cry in the silence.
Night descends, blue, between staircases and stars. I see
blue trees, abandoned streets, and a country of sand.
I had a home and lost it.
I had a home and left it.
How close the stars are!
They cling to my steps. O blue trees, blue woods, night!
We have ended up in a world
collapsing or beginning or dying....
...Which country have you come to now?
Here, you will open a door to a torture chamber.
And one day in a garden
you will see your arms, your eyes, or your speeding heart.
But you are strong today, say your word. Say it,
for after tomorrow you will begin to die.
The winds that do not blow in the evening,
the winds that do not blow at dawn.
I am beautified with the book of boughs;
and I see my cry in others' eyes.
***
November 3, 1974
| Home |