March 06, 2007

Time For Poetry

Mahmoud Darouish


My Mother

I long for my mother's bread
My mother's coffee
Her touch
Childhood memories grow up in me
Day after day
I must be worth my life
At the hour of my death
Worth the tears of my mother.

And if I come back one day
Take me as a veil to your eyelashes
Cover my bones with the grass
Blessed by your footsteps
Bind us together
With a lock of your hair
With a thread that trails from the back of your dress
I might become immortal
Become a God
If I touch the depths of your heart.

If I come back
Use me as wood to feed your fire
As the clothesline on the roof of your house
Without your blessing
I am too weak to stand.

I am old
Give me back the star maps of childhood
So that I
Along with the swallows
Can chart the path
Back to your waiting nest.

3 comments:

Nina louVe said...

Ooooh.. comme c'est beau.

En français maintenant, s'il vous prie.

dreamer said...

Thank you dear Nina Louve! Merci, puis ravi que vous êtes là

Anonymous said...

"Oh dream...
Don't stare at us like that!
Don't be the last martyr!"
Mahmoud Darwish