In my mouth another mouth Between my teeth other teeth. O my parents . . . my people ! You who sent me into the world like a bullet, Hunger, as a fútus, palpitates in my guts. I nibble my cheeks from inside. What I write in the morning Repulses me in the evening. The one that I greet around nine o'clock I want to kill at ten o'clock. I'd like a flower as big as my face And a wide hole between my shoulders to let all my memories burst out like a spring. *** My fingers annoy each other And my eyebrows are two confronting foes. I want to twist my body like a wire In a very desolate cemetery, And fall down a fathomless well Full of monsters, mothers and bracelets. *** I just forgot the shape of the spoon And the taste of the salt. I forgot the moonlight And the smell of the children My guts are full of cold coffee And blind water My throat's crammed with scraps of paper And blocks of ice And you, stale water, Fresh water . . . You don't know how much I love you. With stiff collars up to the chin, And with sticky lips And strictly buttoned wrists, We eat standing up We stand too long We strike the flies With poems and handkerchiefs In order to see a tree or a bird passing by. With merciless small feet we lean on the ground And we throw the ribs of the village From street to street. *** I used to climb the spiral stairs As clean as cotton, Lustrous as the leaves of the myrtle. I go up and down like a murderer's dagger With shoes of fame and shoes of hate Hanging my misery on the nails of the wall, My eyes penetrating deeply Into distant balconies And rivers returning from captivity. I saw them all under the yellow sky. The rich, the pacifists, The poor and the monstrous. I saw millions of teeth clicking in the street, Millions of dim faces Lowering their eyes under the thunder. I saw hasty burials, And the reins of barbaric horses burning in the streets And workers falling from top floors Buried carefully in the sad rain, With their tobacco, their clothes, And their mess tins. But nothing is moving in the desert. The wind whistles on the blood And small tombs fall like dew On hats and coats. *** I saw canned breeze And newspapers Flung against the rain I drank dirty water And licked the foam wherein was the blood of the breast. And I have never doubted this land Which sleeps like a child, This hunchbacked land, mounded like a butcher. Through windows And thousands of stars, corpses And hammers of fire I was looking for a mortal blow to my face Looking for a small sea to use as shoes, And an arrogant meal Which I could fold under my arm like a scarf. I got tired of the long stairs And the rooms of victory. I would like to roast the corn And in the sunset eat the stone and the pebble. *** I want to embrace anything distant Whether a wild flower Or a muddied shoe as large as an eagle. I want to eat, to drink, to die And to sleep at the same moment. I am in a hurry, in a hurry Like a mangy cloud, Like a lonely wave chased in the sea. _________________ Translated by Abdul Kader El Janabi