Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi : Poem of the Nile مترجمة

Prelude

Walls climb the ivy

And Khartoum, poised on its unamputated foot

Singing

Will the Nile ever escape into sleep?

We were the most loving of lovers, children trickling from us

- What name do you give me?

- I call you Presence of Earth

Come closer then

- What will be the taste of grief?

- …………………..

And we parted!



Sura

The Nile flows quietly…

Seeping through the city's silence

And the burning sorrows of villages.

Now friends no longer exchange greetings each morning

No longer recognize each other.

Everywhere one sees them, these one-time prophets,

Poverty-stricken, sipping their tea, their tears,

Speechless.

They hide death in their fraying clothes,

And all they can say to our children is: patience.

They fade into the trees, commit suicide

At night, derive from alcohol

Their arguments, embark on futile wars

With their women, give up

Their prayers, then disappear.

Walls climb the ivy

And Khartoum, sitting in a café

Smoking

In the dark you can't tell apart

Muggers from those whose journeys they'd cut short.

We were lovers, looking for our children

Who were breaking into bakeries, stealing fire

From the ovens' throats.

- What name do you give me?

- I call you earth's Fiery Anger

So rise up

- What will be the taste of ashes?

- …………………….

And we parted!



Sura

Fire is the opposite of Water

And Smoke is a memory that prepares us only for ash.

Water is the opposite of Fire

And the waves are like maps, rippling across the land.

And the girl? She is somewhere between this heart and this knife…

City - you're a handful of grains of wheat, tucked

Into the purses of usurers and slave-traders.

And the black men

Are approaching, approaching. River Nile

To what deserts are you taking my reflections? You depart

And I stand among the horses, by your gate,

And my soul would embark on a holy journey too,

For the silence suspended between us

Is a language floating among the ruins of a beautiful, vanished past.

O River Nile, father

Were the trees merely windows reflecting women's sorrows,

Or have your waters shattered their images,

Drowned the history of women,

And painted forever their meadows the colour of poverty?

Poverty invades the children's playgrounds, leaving

Them silent, accursed, their heritage

Only anger and disbelief.

The Nile opens his arms

Speaks to the migrant birds

Falls silent

Reigns

And never sleeps

Never sleeps

The Nile drinks dry the desert's tavern,

Gets drunk on dumps of toxic waste,

Must survive in the city, falling apart

Each night, rising up through its history

And never sleeps

Never sleeps

The drums began with the sun

And its light filtered songs that entered into the pores of the soul.

In the river's shallows boats sheltered from toil and wind.

Now the carnivals of the blacks take fire

And the Nile has burst through the layers of time.

And, see, the kingdom of Maroe appears

And the face of the Nubian lover

Who walks among the sorrows of the waterwheels

Searching for warriors among the horses.

Where does the line of ancestral blood begin

And when does the blood loss reach its climax,

O King Piankhy, enthroned ruler of Kush,

A kingdom unravelling in bitter silence?

Shout at the horses, and let

The waters ready themselves.

Let the maps explode. How can the land be lost

When the future belongs to the Nile?

The Nile knows of the disgrace of cities

That have vanished.

Knows of the old times

Yet never speaks.

It is the Nile…

Generations will pass, and there will always be children

Lingering on its banks,

Waiting

For it all to end.



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