A Precious Catch
In the stretch of my life
I only caught a solitary sardine,
From a little countryside creek
When I reeled in the bamboo pole in the air,
Glimmered its silvery skin
Under the afternoon sun,
My other women
All jumped into the river
Save one
Whose skin now shimmers
In dim light of our living room!
The Solitary Witness to the Incident Flew Away
Like the boredom of horses,
From the enormity of the fools they carry
Like the balcony of an Alexandrian hotel
—more than a hundred years old—
About to collapse
where I sit now
Exploring the depression of the citadel*
On the tip of the opposite coast of the bay,
Like the melancholia of bats
Sleeping upside down
On the barbed wires of the borders,
Like a scream in the face of the sea
After an obvious bout of drunkenness,
To be awakened
By the pretty Nubian face of a maid
In this historic hotel
After a deep slumber that lasted about two or three days,
Since a bird invaded my room
Which is open to the suppressed feelings of passersby,
And the crashing waves
And since it has a passion for skating and acrobatic moves
—nothing like the monotony of seagulls—
But rather, looks like stunt planes
That would puff colored smoke
The bird raided my room, previously open
To a palm tree and a pair of ravens
Open to a hope of communication
With a stranger that I lack
With a word from a new language
With a fable I was never taught by my grandmother
Whose ghosts are still haunting me,
I was not unconscious, then
But glanced at the bird with half an eye
When it crashed into the door
Then, into the high ceiling of the room
And I said to him in my dream:
“May you have peace whenever you rest…”
******************
The pretty Nubian face disappeared
So did the bird about which I asked the people of the city
About its name and shape
They couldn’t remember it
And there remained the antique hotel
Haunted by the spirit of that moment
Which was not decisive
In the life
Of any of the guests!
*Citadel of QaitBay
A Dog, a Sapling and a Harbor
Don’t fret, my father
Memories have immortalized you
And from your memories sprang poetry
Through which the soul was shaped
Like the scene of a dog we fed together
—one afternoon—
who was lying over a ripped coat
Under the shade of a sapling
Overlooking the harbor
Packed with ships!
