Wednesday, 11 September 2013

A final drop of rain

The orphan by Muhammad al-Maghut

The dream...
The dream...
My solid-gold car crashed,
The wheels scattered about like gypsies.
One spring night I had a dream
And when I woke
There were flowers on my pillow.
Once I dreamt of the sea
And in the morning
Fins and shells covered my bed.
But when I dreamt of freedom
Swords were pointed at my neck
Like a morning halo.
...from now on
You won't find me
In ports or on trains
But in public libraries
Sleeping on maps of Europe
Where my mouth touches rivers
And my tears run across continents.

1970 translated by Abdullah al-Udari

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