Sand Kingdom

 

 

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)