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Shawqi Shafiq
Four Poems
Translated by Sinan Antoon
EXERCISES IN STRUGGLING WITH LONELINESS
Rub the heart’s ring
rub it well
to erase the dust of depression
Rub it again carefully
so that the wall of forgetfulness shines
or
draw a circle/put a dove, or two, inside it/watch the wings move (that is if there are any)
You will ask: What if the circle crumbles?
What if the dove flies away
or if I am bothered by the wings’ noise
I will say to you: erase the circle
for all the traces to disappear
or put a fresh woman
instead of the dove
to seek revenge
for the aridity of an apartment
devouring your mouth
ALLEGATIONS
1 The Alleged Poetess
The poetess who was fixing her braids
and combing her body with perfume
and heavy makeup
in an attempt to sweeten her poem,
when that alleged poetess ascended
to recite what she alleged
to be her poem
the poem fell.
Her braids, makeup and lipstick remained,
the alleged poetess remained
a poetess
allegedly
2 The Alleged Poet
The poet who was alone with his corpse
in a room full of his corpse,
a suitcase of obvious confusion,
numerous watches, and some empty bottles
leftover from old nights and alleged wars
the poet who described the arrest
of one of his fellow poets
as an ordinary event
as something which happens even in best-case scenarios
that poet who never let go
of the bottle in his mouth
did not teach the alleged poetess
how to write poetry
He taught her an empty corpse
which fills the room
REASONS
1: Taste
I did not eat anything after you
yesterday
in order not to lose your taste
in my mouth
2: Glistening
A knee glistened in the darkness,
a sufficient reason for the bird
to be shaken
3: Freshness
When he sat on the chaise longue
he felt a certain softness
he did not realize that he was sitting on a fresh thigh
4:
Completion
There are three men
drawing one woman in the room
When the woman was completed
there was so much woman
the room gasped
5: A Meal
There are many cats in the garbage bin
bread crumbs
plastic
and there is also a meal
for an informant disguised as a madman
6: Scene
When my hand was resting on the table
it saw a raging breast
It spoke to it
tried to calm it, but it erupted
My hand got up to teach it the wisdom of patience
but the breast ripped open the dress
and went out to bite my hand’s horizon
When my hand could not repel it
it got up to kiss the breast’s hand
SMOKE
Flies, it is said, are repelled by smoke
I wonder
what kind of smoke
would repel informants?
Four of seven poems selected from the Yemen feature in Banipal 36