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New Year

Poem No.: 51 النص العربي: لا يوجد

New Year, don't come to our homes, for we are wanderers

from a ghost-world, denied by man.

Night flees from us, fate has deserted us

We live as wandering spirits

with no memory

no dreams, no longings, no hopes.

The horizons of our eyes have grown ashen

the gray of a still lake,

like our silent brows,

pulseless, heatless,

denuded of poetry.

We live not knowing life.


New Year, move on. There is the path

to lead your footsteps.

Ours are veins of hard reed,

and we know not of sadness.

We wish to be dead, and refused by the graves.

We wish to write history by the years

If only we knew what it is to be bound to a place

If only snow could bring us winter

to wrap our faces in darkness

If only memory, or hope, or regret

could one day block our country from its path

If only we feared madness

If only our lives could be disturbed by travel

or shock,

or the sadness of an impossible love.

If only we could die like other people.


Translated from the Arabic by Rebecca Carol Johnson

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