The Company of Michelangelo

The kings who went by
Left a trace behind them, its name is forgetting
Such as Alice or Kush .... Etc.

They left strange crowns, extreme in their peculiarity
Remains of skeletons
Heads of fish
Names which are difficult to pronounce
Little sticks for applying kohl to eyelids
Commandments - songs of praise engraved on stones

While I left you
You who are shining with me
Wherever your thrones take you
Fresh blood in perishing arteries
Which is impossible to forget.

In ancient Rome - at the gates of ancient Rome
You accompany me,
Going so far in the rigor of perfection
In your imagining of the thread in its tender hole
In your imagining of the line and the curve
You accompany me in the friendship of stone
Hand in hand
Fingers intertwined with fingers
And then ....
At the entrance to the bar
We clink our glasses
You put the next dot
On a face that contemplates its history

Which one of us is the key
Your door or at mine?

Silence is/becomes happy
Situation is/becomes happy
The uttering of images is/becomes happy
Whenever he leaves the seat empty
Whenever the cloaked one disappears
Whenever the gasp of light darkness is heard
The embrace is the mythology of presence

What is wisdom?/ What is the moral of the story?

London 30 March 2006

Share this poem

view comments

Comments (2)

Bodrogligeti, AndrĂ¡s

We of course should see the original to judge the premise of this statement! A translation always loses something to the detriment of the original and always gains something for the benefit of the reader who is not a native speaker.


it has developed into a phenomenon, the remark that only the English translation makes sense, saying that with the reference that i’m a native speaker of Arabic and a compatriot to the poet.

Leave a comment