يوماً One Day

يوماً

يوماً
سيكبرُ
طفلُ النجمِ
في القَصَـبِ
ويسْكبُ الماءَ ضوءا
في فَمِ الرطـبِ
 
يوماً
سَيَتْلو عليكـم
ما تَيَسَّـرَ مـن
آي الجراحِ
ويخطو في ثِيـَابِ نبـي
يومـاً
سيلبـسُ
مـوالاً
وقافـيـةً
فيها الجنوبُ
مسيحُ الماءِ والذهـب ِ
 
يومـا
سيطلـع لا شمـس ولا قمـر
الاه يهـزأ
بالأفلاك والشـهـب
 
يوما
سيوميء للريح
احتمي بيـدي
فما هنالك
من خوف علـى العنـب
 
يوما
سيركض في كل الدروب وما عليه
ان كانت الامطار
من جرب
 
يوما
سيصحو على دنيا
يعلمها ان التراب الذي في الروح
من ذهب
 
يوما سيصرخ في كل الوجوه انا
( انا الذي نظر الاعمى الى ادبي)
 
يوما
سيفترش الجوزاء منبسطا
هناك
في الافق الاعلى
دنو نبي
 
أقول: يومـا
ولـي عرافـة صدقـت
بعض النبوءات
في جيبي وفي الكتب
 
نبـوءة
طفـلـة
دارت يمامتـهـا
على فوانيس من ناموا
على التعـب
 
أنا ولقلـق أطفالي
وصاحـبـة
افرُّ
منهـا
إليها
ساعـة الكـرب
 
نغلّـق البـاب وهمـا
ثـم نفتحـه
لعلمنا أنّ باب الوهـم
مـن خشـب
 
 
 

One Day

One day
the child of the stars
will grow up
by the water reeds.
He will pour water like light
onto ripening dates.
 
One day
he will recite
all that he can
from The Painful Verses,
then step away, clothed in the garments of a prophet.
 
One day
he will wear a mawwal*
and a rhyme
that embody the South,
the messiah and gold.
 
One day
neither sun nor moon will rise -
only he, who eclipses
the planets and comets.
 
One day
he will gesture to the wind,
'Take shelter in my hand'.
The vines need no longer fear.
 
One day
he will run in all directions
heedless of the rain
and its ills.
 
One day
he will awake to a world
to teach that the dust of the soul
is of gold.
 
One day
he'll scream in every face: 'I'.
'I am the one whose words enlighten the blind'.
 
One day
he'll lie down in Gemini
up there in the heavens like a saint.
 
I say, 'One day' -
but some prophecies are here in my pocket
others are only in books.
 
A prophecy is like a child:
her doves circle the lamps
that still burn while the exhausted are asleep.
 
I, my children and my wife -
whom I run to and from in my hour of misery -
 
We lock the door, then fling it open,
knowing that the door of illusion is made of wood.
 

Hazim Al-Temimi is a poet from southern Iraq – famed for its once magnificent marshes that were drained and destroyed by Saddam Hussein – and this poem must be read within that geographical context. For example, the very first stanza refers to the ‘water reeds’ of the marshes and the date palms that grow in southern Iraq in profusion.

The second stanza uses a verb ‘recite’ that specifically means reciting the Koran. Our use of ‘The Painful Verses’ was a way of indicating the special nature of the text the protagonist is reciting.

The line, ‘I am the one whose words enlighten the blind’ is a direct (and very famous) quotation from Al-Mutanabbi, a tenth-century Iraqi poet, widely regarded as one of the greatest poets of the Arabic language.

Although the line breaks of the poem make it look as though it is written in free verse – or what Arabic poets call ‘prose poetry’ – this poem is composed in the strict rhyme and metre of traditional classical Arabic poetry.

This was a difficult poem to translate, not simply because it’s written in a classical form, but also because the fantastic sentiments it expresses are inimical to English. Whereas statements such as those made in this poem sound very beautiful in Arabic, in English they can come across as nothing more than empty rhetoric and bombast.

One Day

One day
The child of the star
Will grow
In the reeds
He will pour water like a light
Into the mouth of ripe dates
 
One day
He will recite
What he could
Of the verses of wounds (pain)
And he walks dressed in the clothes of a prophet
 
One day
He will put on
A mawwal
And a rhyme
That encompasses the south
Flowing water and gold (or: the messiah of water and gold)
 
One day
Neither the sun or the moon will rise
Except him, belittling
The planets and comets
 
One day
He will signal to the wind
Take shelter in my hand
There shall be no
Fear for the grapes
 
One day
He will run in all paths without caring
If the rains
Were plagued
 
One day
He will awake to a world
Teaching that the soil in the soul
Is made of gold
 
One day
He'll scream in all faces: "I"
"I am the one whose words enlighten the blind"
 
One day
He'll lay down on Gemini
up-there in the horizon like a saint
 
I say, one day, - and my oracle was right-
some prophicies in my hand, and in some books
 
A prophecy, like a child
Her doves swirl around lanterns of those who slept on tiredness
 
Me, my children and a partner
Whom I escape from and to in the hour of misery
 
We lock the door deludedly, then open it
Knowing that the door of illusion is of wood.
 

Original Poem by

Hazim Al-Temimi

Translated by

The Poetry Translation Workshop with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Arabic

Country

Iraq