A B D U L H A K I M M A H M O U D E L - S H E I K H
__________________________________________________________BREATHS OF SAFFRON ON BROKEN MIRRORS
Translated by Charles Cantalupo & Ghirmai Negash
Lust won't leave me alone
Confused and wanting you
Bathed in juicy colors
As we fall on each other
And I bathe like a hero
In your body full of desire…
But it's me hissing
And a little water
Before I'm feeling guilty
Until I see these notes
Echoing outside and not unnatural
But as joy with passion
And turning me upside down,
Oblivious to any niceties
Of the thin water of reason.
I remember love again,
A time to write poetry
Without carving it on my forehead,
When I shun both sides of the river
To look in the mirror of its flowing.
I see love born amidst three stories:
Oleander covering my face;
Writing I see on the feet
Of some poor farmers walking by;
And how the peace we found in trees
Filled us so deeply
That we discovered the power of revolution.
Can you imagine my fascination
When bird song attacked a meadow
That bloomed only for my eyes
Before my own tongue took over
Prophesying a newborn amidst the sheaves
Of wheat in the gleam of harvest?
And why this chant sulking in the cypress
Before tumbling through the branches
And overpowering a man
Known as a lily in the field?
Like henna lines we surrounded him
Before a dream vision
Of strong language like radiation
Repelling love in action
Required a heart to heart conversation.
Before I was so angry
I was smoother than a lentil
And full of nurture overflowing
For a thousand wounded,
Another thousand dead,
And one particular woman
Passing away forever to that far shore
Between my wanting and leaving her.
Listen. From now on,
Never will I waste another day,
Never, even if I have no poetry,
Even if I reject every single word,
Never again will I waste a single day –
At least not as long as I love
To see her smile so clearly
And find her body's wild curves
In the waves crashing to shore
For a song of our martyrs' remains.
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