Inhabited by bleeding

Translated by Abbas El Sheikh
Edited by Mark Pirie


Those who light my candle
Their departure is emaciated
And their destruction is suspended
In remote regions of life.
Their trees became red for my sunrise
Embroidering my streams with shadowless stars.
Those who ignite their dreams in exile -
I wish they could inattentively reproduce in
The palms of my hands
And never permit the mirrors to
Reincarnate in me.

The handles of my gates are rusty;
And yet their fading waving is awake
On my doorstep;
They pierce my shirt with the myrtle
And forget my wound on the house’s table;
Just like I forget the day I guarded their steps.
I teach Henna how to dance in my fingers
And the sign of carnation is nostalgia.
But here I can only buy for my soil
Flowers that aren’t Arabian jasmine;
Even if the cooing is a stable memory -
Those who light my candle are inhabited by bleeding.