في عيدِ ميلادِهِ خانَتْهُ أَشْمُعُهُ
فسارَعَتْ لتُضِيءَ العيدَ أَدْمُعُهُ
On his birthday, his candle betrayed him,
So his tears hurried to light up the feast.
كأنَّ عينيهِ ..في شوطِ الوفاءِ لهُ ..
تَسابَقانِ.. وأوفَى الدمعِ أَسْرَعُهُ !
As if his two eyes... were competing in loyalty to him,
Racing... and the fastest tear was the most loyal!
رَاعَتْهُ من صفحةِ التقويمِ مقصلةٌ
أَهْوَتْ على عُنُقِ الأيَّامِ تقطعُهُ
A scissor lurked on the calendar page,
Plunging at the neck of the days, cutting them off.
في الشمعدانِ رأى أعوامَهُ جُثَثاً
صرعَى فمال على نعشٍ يُشَيِّعُهُ
In the candelabra he saw his years as corpses,
Slain, so he leaned on a bier to bid them farewell.
ما استقبلَتْهُ (الموسيقا) كي تُحَصِّنَهُ
ضدَّ الزمانِ ولا قامَتْ تُوَدِّعُهُ
Music did not welcome him to fortify him,
Against time, nor did it stand to say goodbye.
ليتَ المرايا وقد شَظَّتْ ملامحَهُ
تُحصي الوجوهَ التي باتَتْ تُقَنِّعُهُ
If only the mirrors, after his features were shattered,
Could count the faces that spent the night deceiving him!
في عيدِ ميلادِهِ غابَتْ حبيبتُهُ
وقَلْبُهُ فائضُ الإكسيرِ مُتْرَعُهُ
On his birthday, his beloved was absent,
While his heart brimmed with elixir, intoxicating it.
فاهتزَّ عن ثورةٍ في روحِهِ انْدَلَعَتْ
شوقاً إلى وردةٍ بالحُبِّ تَقْمَعُهُ
It shook with a rebellion flaming up in his soul,
Yearning for a rose to suppress it with love!
شوقاً إلى امرأةٍ أدنَى عقيدتهِا
أنَّ الهوَى للهوَى عَقْدٌ يُشَرِّعُهُ !
Yearning for a woman whose creed deemed
That passion for passion sanctions it!
**
**
On his birthday... the memories crept
Like the steps of the clock's hands, incessantly stinging him.
في عيدِ ميلادِهِ.. والذكرياتُ سَرَتْ
مسرَى العقاربِ لا تنفكُّ تَلْسَعُهُ
He recalled the beginnings... no midwife greeted him,
To watch over destiny, no wet nurse suckled him.
طافَ البداياتِ.. لا أَشْجَتْهُ قابلةٌ
ترعى المشيئةَ.. لا أَشْجاَهُ مَرْضَعُهُ
Weeping over his mother: Did the pain of divorce
Equal what the days now torment him with?!
باكٍ على أُمِّهِ : هل كان أَوْجَعَها
في الطَّلْقِ مقدارَ ما الأيَّامُ تُوجِعُهُ؟!
On his birthday... a voice rumbled in his mouth,
But from the gut its source:
**
**
"Unbridle my camel... I have a journey
To myself, whose wellspring in the depths is not yet dry!"
في عيدِ ميلادِهِ.. دَوَّى على فَمِهِ
صوتٌ ولكنْ من الأحشاءِ مَطْلَعُهُ :
He roamed the unseen like a bird seeking
A bullet of consciousness to strike him down.
فُكُّوا عقالَ بعيري.. إِنَّ بِي سَفَراً
إِلَيَّ.. ما جَفَّ في الأعماقِ مَنْبَعُهُ !
The shackles of illusion kept suspending him
To the wind - how can the wind blow to slap him!
تبا لهُ طائراً في الغيبِ مُلْتَمِساً
رصاصةً من رصاص الوعيِ تصرعُهُ
He found life a shirt... riddled with holes,
So he kept mending it with meaning.
مشابكُ الوَهْمِ لم تبرحْ تُعَلِّقُهُ
للريح.. أنَّى تَهُبُّ الريحُ تصفعُهُ
He walked on suspicion in his soul, so
Legions of ants in his flanks marched after him.
ألفَى الحياةَ قميصاً .. والثقوبُ بهِ
شَتَّى.. فما زال بالمعنىَ يُرَقِّعُهُ
Limited of spirit by what his spirit
Bore for the earth, love, which it never ceased distributing.
مَشَى على ريبةٍ في نفسِهِ فمَشَتْ
جحافلُ النملِ في جنبيهِ تَتْبَعُهُ
Nothing panicked him more in his darkness
Than a thought in the darkness of his head frightening him.
محدودب الروح مِمَّا روحُهُ حمَلَتْ
للأرضِ حُبّا وما انْفَكَّتْ تُوَزِّعُهُ
If a pen straddled one of his fingers,
His finger would gleam with the brilliance of diamond.
لا شيءَ أكثر في ظلمائِهِ فَزَعاً
من فكرةٍ في ظلامِ الرأسِ تُفْزِعُهُ
On his birthday... he still screams in
The wilderness of time, but none can hear him.
إذا امتطَى قَلَمٌ إحدَى أصابعِهِ
تَأَلَّقَتْ ببريقِ الماسِ إصبعُهُ
He listens to his self attentively, as a convert
To a new religion, to the one who could convince him.
**
**
I met him on the train of life, and our
First ribs intertwined there.
في عيدِ ميلادِهِ.. ما زال يصرخُ في
بَرِّيَّةِ الوقتِ لكنْ ليس تَسْمَعُهُ
A riddle seeking its meaning, and they converged
Like text converging with its author in longing.
يُصغي إلى ذاتِهِ إصغاءَ مُعْتَنِقٍ
دِيناً جديداً إلى مَنْ كان يُقْنِعُهُ
I met him and we became one, dawn broke
Smiling on a lightning flash adorning it.
صادَفْتُهُ في قطار العُمْرِ وَالْتَبَسَتْ
هناكَ أَضْلُعِيَ الأُولَى وأَضْلُعُهُ
As if when we walked: I and I,
A river flowed, and the gurgling of water followed it.
لغزٌ يُفَتِّشُ عن معناهُ وَالْتَقَياَ
كما التقَى في الشَّجَى نصٌّ ومُبْدِعُهُ
What is love? I said - Sum it up, he told me: A bell
In the heart we never learned how to ring.
صادَفْتُهُ وتَوَحَّدْناَ معاً، وصحا
وجهُ السماءِ على بَرْقٍ يُلَمِّعُهُ
The train went on, but it has no eyes
To bend down to the blind track and lift it up.
كأنَّنا حينما سِرْناَ : أنا وأنا
نَهْرٌ جرَى وخريرُ الماءِ يتبعُهُ
And whenever the space narrowed around us,
We'd seek refuge in a female expansiveness.
ما الحبُّ؟ قلتُ: وأَوْجِزْ قال لي: جَرَسٌ
في القلبِ لم نَتَعَلَّمْ كيفَ نَقْرَعُهُ
A raven sighed at us, its darkness brimmed
With night... wherein a star disputes its position.
سار القطارُ ولكنْ لا عيونَ لهُ
يكبو على السُّكَّةِ العمياَ ونرفعُهُ
The raven said: Take from me the ceremonies
Of your grief, then do as I used to do.
ولم نزلْ كلَّما ضاق المكانُ بنا
نأوي هناك إلى أُنثَى تُوَسِّعُهُ
We said: Your tenderness has prolonged the road for us
Toward absence, so tell us how to return it.
**
**
He said: Plant a shadow behind you to guide you back,
For what shadow betrayed those who planted it on earth!
سجا علينا غرابٌ ملءُ عتمتِهِ
ليلٌ.. يخاصمُ فيهِ النجمَ مَوْقِعُهُ
We asked and he replied... we relegated the question to
A doubt, at times dispelling it, at times gathering it.
قال الغراب: خذوا عنِّي مراسِمَ كُمْ
في الحزنِ ثُمَّ اصنعوا ما كنتُ أَصْنَعُهُ
O how the end leaned with our arms
Toward farewell, but its arms could not help it!
قلنا: حنانيكَ قد طال الطريقُ بنا
نحو الغيابِ فحَدِّثْ كيفَ نَرْجِعُهُ
The train went on, and we declared mourning for it
Since the space of one of the riders dried up.
قال: ازرعوا خلفَكُمْ ظِلا يُدِلُّكُمُ
ما خانَ ظِلٌّ بِمَنْ في الأرضِ يزرعُهُ !
O driver of life... we reached our station
Of life... is there a fare we can pay?
قلنا وقالَ.. وأَوكَلْناَ السؤالَ إلى
شَكٍّ يُبَدِّدُهُ حيناً ويجمعُهُ
Stop at the first coffin you pass by,
There where we take off the shirt of time.
يا للنِّهايةِ إذْ مَالَتْ بأَذْرُعِنا
نحو الوداعِ فلم تُسْعِفْهُ أَذْرُعُهُ !
سارَ القطارُ وأَعْلَنَّا الحدادَ بهِ
مُذْ جَفَّ من أَحَدِ الرُّكَّابِ مَوْضِعُهُ
يا سائقَ العُمْر.. أَدْرَكْناَ محطَّتَنا
من الحياةِ.. فهل أَجْرٌ فنَدْفَعُه ؟
قِفْ عند أَوَّلِ تابوتٍ تَمُرُّ بهِ
هناكَ حيث قميصُ الوقتِ نخلعُهُ
