Ἀρχεῖο | Ὀκτωβρίου 2013

Banishment

by  Nimah Ismail Nawwab  

 

I let you out,
Your rule is at an end,
I let you out,
With all that is in me,
Grief,
I let you go,
Pent up wrath,
Clawing at my heart,
Clenching my hands,
Running your despairing, devastating course,
Through throbbing veins.

I give you back,
To the oppressors,
Tyrants,
Soulless,
Callous of human decency,
Giddy with hysterical racism,
Puffed with blind arrogance,
Thriving on their mastery,
Stealing, raping, conquering,
The Arab world, African continent, Asian lands.

I let you out,
As the agony of generations
Birthed,
Matured,
Ingrown,
Stamp our collective memory,
Moaning mothers,
Massacred young innocents,
Shamed helpless males,
Weaved in and out of the centuries.

I turn you out,
Grief,
Out of my heart of hearts
Out of my soulful soul.
I let you out,
As women’s tears join
Across lands, deserts, oceans
Rivers of suffering,
Gushing and flooding,
The tributaries of time and place.
I let you go, Grief,
So you can no longer hold me in thrall,
Keep me from restful sleep,
Smothering my dreams,
With a bleak, murky future for my loved ones.

II

I let you out,
Grief,
And pick up the mantle of joy,
Pulling its swirling warmth tightly,
Deeply drinking up bubbling pleasure,
Dancing and twirling
To the ecstatic, mighty music of human bonding,
Soothing,
Supporting,
Succoring me,
Bringing me peace, peace, peace, peace…

Oh, yes, Grief, listen well,
As the bloom of hope thrives,
Spreads its fine pollen,
Cultivating laughter,
Confidence to take you on.

As streaming, quickening hope enters my soul,
Courses through my blood,
Races through my heart,
Shines out of my eyes,
I let you go,
Shrieking, writhing in denial.

Trying and failing,
To survive in a barren land,
Banished from the light of day
Banished from the soothing dark of night.

Your rule at an end.

I let you out,
Your rule is at an end,
I let you out,
With all that is in me,
Grief,
I let you go,
Pent up wrath,
Clawing at my heart,
Clenching my hands,
Running your despairing, devastating course,
Through throbbing veins.

I give you back,
To the oppressors,
Tyrants,
Soulless,
Callous of human decency,
Giddy with hysterical racism,
Puffed with blind arrogance,
Thriving on their mastery,
Stealing, raping, conquering,
The Arab world, African continent, Asian lands.

I let you out,
As the agony of generations
Birthed,
Matured,
Ingrown,
Stamp our collective memory,
Moaning mothers,
Massacred young innocents,
Shamed helpless males,
Weaved in and out of the centuries.

I turn you out,
Grief,
Out of my heart of hearts
Out of my soulful soul.
I let you out,
As women’s tears join
Across lands, deserts, oceans
Rivers of suffering,
Gushing and flooding,
The tributaries of time and place.
I let you go, Grief,
So you can no longer hold me in thrall,
Keep me from restful sleep,
Smothering my dreams,
With a bleak, murky future for my loved ones.

III

I let you out,
Grief,
And pick up the mantle of joy,
Pulling its swirling warmth tightly,
Deeply drinking up bubbling pleasure,
Dancing and twirling
To the ecstatic, mighty music of human bonding,
Soothing,
Supporting,
Succoring me,
Bringing me peace, peace, peace, peace…

Oh, yes, Grief, listen well,
As the bloom of hope thrives,
Spreads its fine pollen,
Cultivating laughter,
Confidence to take you on.

As streaming, quickening hope enters my soul,
Courses through my blood,
Races through my heart,
Shines out of my eyes,
I let you go,
Shrieking, writhing in denial.

Trying and failing,
To survive in a barren land,
Banished from the light of day
Banished from the soothing dark of night.

Your rule at an end.

Τριζόνια

τοῦ Γιὼργου Σεφέρη

Τὸ σπίτι γέμισε τριζόνια
χτυποῦν σὰν ἄρρυθμα ρολόγια
λαχανιασμένα. Καὶ τὰ χρόνια

ποὺ ζοῦμε σὰν αὐτὰ χτυποῦν
καθὼς οἱ δίκαιοι σιωποῦν                  5
σὰ νὰ μὴν εἶχαν τί νὰ ποῦν.

Κάποτε τ᾿ ἄκουσα στὸ Πήλιο
νὰ σκάβουνε γοργὰ ἕνα σπήλαιο
μέσα στὴ νύχτα. Ἀλλὰ τὸ φύλλο

τῆς μοίρας τώρα τὸ γυρίσαμε            10
καὶ μᾶς γνωρίσατε καὶ σᾶς γνωρίσαμε
ἀπὸ τοὺς ὑπερβόρειους ἴσαμε

τοὺς νέγρους τοῦ ἰσημερινοῦ
ποὺ ἔχουνε σῶμα χωρὶς νοῦ
καὶ ποὺ φωνάζουν σὰν πονοῦν.      15

Κι ἐγὼ πονῶ κι᾿ ἐσεῖς πονεῖτε
μὰ δὲ φωνάζουμε καὶ μήτε
κἂν ψιθυρίζουμε, γιατί

ἡ μηχανὴ εἶναι βιαστικὴ
στὴ φρίκη καὶ στὴν καταφρόνια      20
στὸ θάνατο καὶ στὴ ζωή,

Τὸ σπίτι γέμισε τριζόνια.

 

Eις την Σελήνην

Από τα Αποκηρυγμένα του Κ.Π. Καβάφη

Μήπως από ανίαν έγινες χλωμή
του ν’ αναβαίνης εις τον ουρανόν,
και προς την γην να ατενίζης,
άνευ συντρόφου να γυρίζης
μέσω αστέρων ξένων, μακρυνών.
Είναι η αλλαγή σου η παντοτεινή
ως οφθαλμού άνευ χαράς και συμπαθείας
ουδέν ευρίσκοντος άξιον ευσταθείας.