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From Exile to Exile

Poem No.: 5 النص العربي: لا يوجد


My country is handed over from one tyrant to the next,

a worse tyrant; from one prison to another,

from one exile to another.

It is colonised by the observed

invader and the hidden one;

handed over by one beast to two

like an emaciated camel.

.

In the caverns of its death

my country neither dies

nor recovers. It digs

in the muted graves looking

for its pure origins

for its springtime promise

that slept behind its eyes

for the dream that will come

for the phantom that hid.

It moves from one overwhelming

night to a darker night.

.

My country grieves

in its own boundaries

and in other people's land

and even on its own soil

suffers the alienation

of exile.


موقع أدب (adab.com)


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