13/01/2021
ترجمتي لقصيدة نزار قباني "انا الدمشقي"
I am a Damascene
This is Damascus and this is a glass and wine. I do love, but some kinds of love could slaughter. I am a damascene if you dissected my body It would certainly flow Apples and Grapes.
And if you opened my vines with your knifeYou would hear in my blood the voices of Whom sacrifice their lives.
Heart's transplant can heal some of whom Fallen in love, and there is no a surgeon forMy heart if I have loved.
Minarets of Sham cry when hugging me
And minarets as trees have souls as well.
Jasmine has rights in our houses.
And the house cat falls asleep where it finds comfort.
Coffee grinder is a part of our childhood.
And how can I possibly forget? And the smell Of Cardamom's is so redolent.
This is Abo Al-Mu'taz' place waiting
And Faiza'a's face is glowing beauty.
Here is my roots, here is my heart here is my Mother tongue.
So how can I clarify! Is there in love any clarification?
O, Willow tree I have come apologizing would you please
Forgive Haifa'a and Wadhah?
Fifty years, and my parts are apart, above the ocean with no
Horizon bulb (the Moon).
I have been thrown away by seas with no banks around.
And I have been chased by demons and ghosts.
I fight the ugliness with poetry and literature of mine until
I find the way of gaudiness light.
Why does Arabism look like a miserable Widow!
Aren't there any happiness in history books?
And poetry, what would last of Its originality?
If It holds by Frauds and extolling people!
And how would we write, and the locks are Shutting our mouths?
And in every second surely a murderer will come to you?
I carried my poetry on my back and it hurts me!
So what of poetry will last If my back takes a break?
