A Small Fox
A small fox
Playing joyfully in your tainted heart
It managed to appear that night
Your face
Overwhelmed it with more than enough
Of loitering and orphanhood
Tonight / That night I missed you favourite approach to me
I missed you greatly
I missed a moon learning the names
We no longer needed a broken vessel
After the dance of the squirrel
And the lingering darkness with the last drops of wine
As for me: I am drunk with thirst
My hand is trembling with desire for tenderness
And no other fox is on his way
Khartoum 14 June 2006
The literal translation of this poem was made by Sabry Hafez
The final translated version of the poem is by Sarah Maguire
© Poetry Translation Centre 2004-2010
noufal says:
simple but excellent