In the Neighboring Room   

 

 

Next to

our nation's bedroom

 

Next to

the nursery school

Next to

the 5.a.m. orchestra, when

upright and in a hurry

the farm-worker goes out

and the 5 p.m. flute, when

bent and numb

he comes back

 

Next to

the room of hope and despair,

the family prayers,

the silence of nurses

and the dry branch

motionless on clean sheets

 

Next to

the poet's room

where words are dogs

or birds:

with his stick

he drives the assaulting dogs away,

his hand opens

to throw barley to the birds

and he waits

 

Next to

the interrogation room

packed with the stupidity of screams

 

and the cunning

of the iron chains

 

Next to

the grandmother

squatting near the clay oven

watching the interaction between

a loaf of bread

and the flames

 

Next to

the maternity ward

 

He sits

with strong muscles

and tools and weapons

ready to help

he thinks of us a lot

he looks after us

like an indispensable

head of the family

 

Next to

the great room we call our country

 

Death

stays up, active

for our sake.

 

(Translated by Radwa Ashour)

From People in their Night, (1999)