Selected Poems from Rose Shomali Musleh

Translated by Dr Basem Ra’ad

 

 

1. Longings after Beginnings

 

It stays with me- this longing after beginnings.

So I leave a land of familiar features

For a space unturned by the arms of the plough.

What is it we fear in our dream that was ours?

Do we lose the reason for our being

When we reach shores of safety

And harvest dreams as if our own fruit?

 

This harvest is my harvest, I often said-

Then I departed,

Leaving for whoever succeeds me

The richness of my harvest, my journey’s end.

Soon as I settle again to plough my plot,

I renew the beginning.

And what a harvest comes after.

 

I know it is not possible, every time,

To reach a beginning.

But when I find it again it lifts me,

As a cloud carried by the wind:

I relinquish myself to wonder-

To learn from what it writes

Has some meaning for living.

 

This longing for beginnings renews me.

It keeps me childlike-all life.

 

 

2. Metamorphosis

 

Inside of me everything takes on the next color.

I see a future vision in its mirror.

“A river has another path than its own.”

Everything readies for the launch,

awaits its zero hour.

More and more ink is needed

to raise the height

that sees the butterfly to flight.

More and more paper is needed

to complete the metamorphosis

that breaks the caterpillar walls.

It will then soar with self-made wings

far, far –

where space  is space.

 

 

3. Distances

 

As close as a face in a mirror:

As far as a face in a mirror.

The river is the same:

you are on the other bank.

 

 

 

4. My dream breaks

 

I shatter.

I feel life’s vertigo:

I am intoxicated by yesterday.

I strain all time:

I am dried out.

I am shocked by truth:

I am afflicted with wisdom.

I hold my pen:

I am saved from drowning.

 

 

5. A Moment before Death

 

Had I a choice to start at the beginning

Which river would I cross?

Which season would I repeat?

Does death really worry me?

Or is there within me a stubborn child still?

I did not fear my ship gone astray,

But I hate death in a faraway land.

 

 

6. What Evil Takes

 

As Mephistopheles waited at her gate

she cried and said:

let me die in the heart of my homeland:

they can take all they want in return.

Mephistopheles allowed his new guest

this wish before death.

Just when her dream came true

he showed at the gate of the house

laughing.

He took away all she loved.

 

 

7. Shout at Death

 

At a moment before death

before life expires

wishes awaken.

Strings of farewell extend

beyond life

before life

touch the faces of loved ones who pass –

gone and returned, returned and gone

gone and gone,

only memories behind.

 

At a moment before death,

before life expires,

love in us rebels:

it sends a shout at death,

wears a life jacket.

A moment before life ends

poetry explodes

 

rebels at defeat

rebels at exile

rebels at silence:

I sing full voiced

of love and life.

 

 

8. A Little Love

 

Only a drop of love I wish out of life

to oil the gates of autumn,

to enter them without noise.

A little love gladdens the heart:

It softens the season of farewell

for the spring that will not return.

 

A little of love

that scents this autumn with springs of basil

would make the crossing at the end

little more the crossing at the end

little more than a draught that intoxicates.

It lights in us the memory.

Would that memory forget us

so we can forget our infinite sadness.

 

In the autumn of the years,

our vistas lack the joy:

The anemone bleaches its color,

the finch misses its tune.

Things pale about us,

the drops of rain annoy us.

But the cloud wanders:

It knows no country and fears no exile.

 

We want nothing more in life

than a space before the sunset

to bid farewell to all those we lost

in stopping places along the journey.

 

I search in the depth of your eyes

for a safe harbor to return.

When your sadness overflows the banks,

it shames me of my sadness,

so I weep for you.

 

 

9. O Goddess of Poetry, Rescue Me

 

I look up to my father in the heavens

and find a moon paled sick with the horrors it sees.

 

From Jenin to Rafah

we write our wounds

we read our wounds

we distill pain into haunted ink.

 

Ah, mother sickened with blackness:

How could I write your poem

without missing a drop of the pain?

 

Goddess of poetry!

Give me a touch of your magic

to write the rune of a woman,

having known the meaning of conception,

before the moment of maturation,

sees the gongs of death silence the beats of life.

 

Rescue me, O Goddess of Poetry.

 

 

10. Lake or Woman

 

Silence swims inside her,

another silence outside.

Her autumn tends the wound,

her roots hug the expanse.

She carries traces of its dampness.

Would she were a swan dotting the blue

that dips its head as it glides

and does not lose the way.

How she adores the river,

but the river searches for open depths and distances.    

 

 

11. Cloud or Woman

 

So tender

she breaks a rib whenever she walks.

So hard

she keeps walking

when the last rib breaks.

She says:

let me undo this breast and go on naked.

 

 

12. Hope

 

The desert may overwhelm us.

Yet always there is an oasis,

a digression,

to scoop words from the sand.

 

 

13. Cycle Dream

 

I dream every night

I am on the way home.

I take out the key from my heart’s fold.

I touch the keyhole.

The key turns.

Just as I enter

I wake up.

 

 

14. Tale of a Different Loom

 

The scent of earth released on first rain

declares the beginning of the narrative.

My mother does not say it in words:

She writes yarns with threads of silk and wool.

With magic in her hands,

out of things of the day

she crafts tales of the night,

weaves them into spreads of warmth and tenderness.

 

My mother is not skilled in coining words.

Her tales are threads of yearning

changing kisses with the night.

On the touch of her prosaic hand,

the tale grows with the night and reaches maturation.

So the work is done. 

 

 

Written by Rose Shomali Musleh

Translated by Dr Basem Ra’ad