Fuad Rifka
Fuad Rifka
Fifteen Poems


WEDDING

In the winter of his years
on a chair beside the window.
Through the cracks
the snow creeps over his feet
buries them,
buries his waist and his neck,
and he doesn’t move.

He knows
he is late for the wedding,
for all weddings.


A SPARK

In his poem
a trembling spark.
It brushes his eyelashes,
stretches them to a horizon that recedes.
In a fog it disappearss
behind the dots, the commas, and the letters.


A GLANCE

Through the crack in the wound
he cleanses the sky.
From the sun’s rays
he weaves his cloak.


NIGHT OF THE WORLD

He casts his nets
into the caverns of whales
He raises the masts
lights the lanterns
and shatters apart
Into the night of the world.


A WISH

For the hungry
    that his poem be
    bread and oil.
For the thirsty
    cool streams.
For the wandering
    home and lantern.

        For life
            that it be lilies and dew,
            that it be harvest.


WANDERER


Wanderer,
all his travels
are in one direction.


SEA’S HAZE

Towards the shrines
for so many years
he tramples thorns and reeds.
Beneath icy stars
he lifts his head from the rocks,
he sees the mountains.
He knows the lakes are beyond
and beyond the lakes
the sea’s haze.


EDGE


At the edge of existence
    forever he stands,
    a ticket in his pocket
He waits for the ship
and the signal flag.


YEAST

At earth’s limit
his feet, always.
Towards the other side
he extends bridges he doesn’t cross.
In the ferment of his limbs:
    the waters of the fields
    the fragrance of blossom’s
        and sun’s flower.

In the rising leaven of his being
the ringing call of life to life.


OIL LAMP

Through the streambeds of darkness
through its cracks
a face always peers out,
approaches,
lights the oil lamp and whispers.

His hand in mine
we head for mountain chains
and the flower of dusk.


CLOUD

A white cloud.
He’s afraid.
Will it fall?
Will the wind swish it away?
In the unknown corners of this earth
It alone knows him
It alone closes his eyes
and shuts the door.


MORNING STAR

At night’s end
Towards the morning star
he lifts his gaze
It spends the night alone
lighting windows.
He spends the night alone
opening windows.

Two friends
    the whole sky between them

ARROW

Out from earth’s darkness
an arrow tears forth
In the air it quivers
catches fire
turns to ashes

Between him and that arrow
    an old friendship.


SURPRISE

A spring night
A moon round with health
Beneath a gladsome rock,
a stream murmursAnd yet
they ask him:
“What’s up with you?
Why don’t you speak?”


SADNESS

In his right hand, the sun ferments
In his left, the moon turns green
In his heart
    the princess of love.
And oh, this sadness,
this dark-leafed sadness.
Why?
From where?


Translated by Paula and Adnan Haydar

From the collections ‘The Jar of the Samaritan’ and ‘Red Indian Poems’