Four poems by: Reda Ahmed
What about the fall?
Shall we ask the bee how did a flower of cloves trick her?
Shall we interrogate that raindrop about her true intention in spending whole night in pond of mud?
Shall we rove in circle around a butterfly whom ashes were kept by the lantern on its door to be taken as example by blinds?
Shall we watch a tear marches to the first wound!
The way always pretend to recognize us!
It Indulges with our tired feet, so the falling goes on and on with no pain,
No explanation,
No end
How could the claws of hope spread to our hearts?
And stole the wisdom of despair and the experience taken from the trail?!
Translated by: Farahnaz Fadhel
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That was not just a rope
The line you had it being sketched around my neck inside a frame
In a form required to the death
Although now I can with a tiny pair of scissors pull my head out of life’s outline
Or over a body that is stinking with serious smell of a mouldy/musty heart
We are a way far from those who releases
Why some born with hearts which are already frozen?!
Or those who suffers from a permanent headache by just informing them with wrinkles refers to that past which they had never reached.
Translated by: Farahnaz Fadhel
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The poet mustn’t apologize for an offensive video arose a lust of his thumb .
Nor for a miserable lamp covered with dust while he was passing in the street.
The poet mustn’t apologize for a frightening bullet saw -in his chest- an honoured shelter
Nor for a cold funeral kept his poems’ hostility .
The poet has to commit a lot of crimes to face dirtiness, supidity and betraying law, but he has to say sorry many times to a beloved chasing him and jumping beyond him like an empty cell
Wished to become his address .
.
_________________
No time to try the apple
…
When it comes to love
You will not know what a man can offer for a woman,
How he leaves without making her a warm seat waiting for him
Or a shiny badge on his shoulders stating that he completed a heavy task;
He pushed tints of darkness far from her balcony
Helped The stars of her prophecy for the night vision,
Expelling the time from her body, which becomes pale whenever she bathed,
Attacking her fears that revolve around him,
Hugging her without cooling his soup,
He looked grateful to her heart as he poured himself into it
When he exchanged with her his certainty and
his real name is in bed.
She is not looking for the right man
As much as you want silver earring
Makes her look beautiful as she pours her hair
In small flasks that dropping them in the well
So that he returned tamed and feel her face again
And immersed her in myths again,
Lipstick polishing her words with a serious accent
Do not hide from light
And a song becomes a rose
When she pulls her arms and embraces a bald tree.
She tries to make him jealous
His manhood is threatened when it is scattered,
Dry his heart in a quiet sun,
Grind it
And threw it over her umbrella,
Walking in front of him
A rosy swan looks to his watch
When she steals a quick kiss from while farewell.
Taking him to see the cocks screaming in the face of dawn
Insistently
And naively
And every hen spins from the calendar: fur,
Claws
And a long night of tricks and traps.
He will not know where love came from
How to taste it and find it good
Hot and sour
It lacks some salt and sugar,
He will not remember that love was given for him on a dish
Jumped in
And found a woman making of his bones: baskets,
Tables, Beds
And her eternal soup
Without noticing that the sun disturbs his eyes,
Lonely afraid
With sharp senses
Covers himself with every string of spices that she left
behind her in the cold nights.
By
Reda Ahmed
Translated by
Kamal Mustsfa Gad .
