Palestinian Poetry Blogging
The Night There
The night there is pitch black...and roses are fewer
The road will fork even more than before. The valley will split open
and the slope will collapse on us. The wound opens wides. Relatives flee.
Victims kill each other to erase their victims' sigh and find relief.
We'll know more than we knew before. One abyss will lead to another.
When we embrace an idea worshipped by tribes and branded on their
vaninishing bodies,
we'll witness emperors engraving their names on grains of wheat to show
their power.
Aren't we changed? Men follow the teaching of the sword
and spill blood. Let the sand pile up.
Women who believe in what's between their thighs follow the teachings of lewdness.
Let the shadows shrink.
Yes I will follow the path of the song, even though my roses are fewer.
From Fewer Roses (1986) by Mahmoud Darwish
Translated by Munir Akash and Carolyn Forché
The Night There
The night there is pitch black...and roses are fewer
The road will fork even more than before. The valley will split open
and the slope will collapse on us. The wound opens wides. Relatives flee.
Victims kill each other to erase their victims' sigh and find relief.
We'll know more than we knew before. One abyss will lead to another.
When we embrace an idea worshipped by tribes and branded on their
vaninishing bodies,
we'll witness emperors engraving their names on grains of wheat to show
their power.
Aren't we changed? Men follow the teaching of the sword
and spill blood. Let the sand pile up.
Women who believe in what's between their thighs follow the teachings of lewdness.
Let the shadows shrink.
Yes I will follow the path of the song, even though my roses are fewer.
From Fewer Roses (1986) by Mahmoud Darwish
Translated by Munir Akash and Carolyn Forché
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