Sinan Antoon
Sinan Antoon
A Sip

Translated by the author

When your fingers embrace
The waist of the glass
A smile awakens
In the dream of a man
Asleep in a distant night

It’s been a long day
He’s blown his soul
Into many a glass

The jasmine wind on your wrist
Caresses his pillow
When your lips touch the tip of the glass
Thousands of wild horses begin to rush
In his veins
Their whinnying blends
With the wine raining from above
The nude women on horseback
Declare him a hedonistic prophet

But
When you put the glass on the table
He wakes up
Looks at his watch –
In an hour
He will enter a new day
Like a long tunnel

Cairo, August 2003