All the fields of the world At odds with two small lips All the streets of history At odds with two bare feet. *** Love, They travel and we wait They have gallows We have necks They have pearls And we have freckles and moles They own the night, the dawn, the afternoon sun and the day And we own skin and bones. *** We plant under the nooday sun, And they eat in the shade Their teeth are white as rice Our teeth dark as desolate forests, Their breasts are soft as silk Our breasts dusty as execution squares And yet, we are the kings of the world: Their homes are buried in bills and accounts Our homes are buried in autumn leaves In their pockets they carry the addresses of thieves and traitors In ours we carry the addresses of rivers and thunderstorms. They own windows We own the winds They own the ships We own the waves They own the medals We own the mud They own the walls and balconies We own the ropes and the daggers. *** And now beloved Come, let us sleep on the pavements. __________ translated by May Jayyusi and John Heath-Stubbs, from Modern Arabic Poetry: An Anthology, edited by Salma Khadra Jayyusi. - 1987 - Columbia University Press.