|
With small
shovels
and plastic
buckets
the kids
in their
colourful clothes
are
building strong sand castles.
They throw
balls in a game without rules
they shout,
call names, laugh,
get
scratched in short inevitable clashes
Complaints
are also inevitable:
"Why did
you leave me alone?"
"Why don’t
you leave me alone?"
They squat
on the boards, in a flash,
then stand
upright, in a flash,
to make the
swing fly higher and higher.
They invent
their sudden demands:
a glass of
water,
a cry for
help, soon forgotten,
a napkin
a look at
the miracle about to take place,
"Watch what
I am going to do now!
"Watch me
jump!"
In the half
circle of benches around the park,
on wooden
seats
that have
almost lost their cumin-coloured paint
mothers and
grandmothers in their drab clothes
turn up
their collars
to avoid a
gust of cold wind
or with
silent fingers
straighten
their wrinkled worries.
And from
time to time
trying to
overcome their boredom
they
exchange the latest news
in low
voices.
They send
their kids a caring smile
an
encouraging look
or an
instructive gesture.
A
big-bellied cat with heavy steps
moves
around, as if lost, looking for something.
A string of
birds, silent, moves slowly
like a
column of prisoners of war.
Dark clouds
pile up above the scene
a small sun
keeps on trying
A loud
weeping
comes from
the sand kingdom,
A kid
shouts in the face of everyone:
the castle
has fallen.
(Translated by
Mourid Barghouti and Radwa Ashour)
From The
Pomegranate Flowers (2002) |