Chair (A Dream)
By an archos - Posted on May 16th, 2008
Tagged: Kultura
by Adonis May 12, 2008
Long ago I screamed at the city:
Husk of the world,
I’m holding you in my hand.
Long ago I muttered at the ship,
my song in a rose-red blaze:
all or nothing.
As for you, my grandchildren, I’m tired,
tired of myself, tired of the seas.
Bring me that chair.
(Translated, from the Arabic, by Michael Beard and Adnan Haydar.)
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рок употребе
млохавостме духовних немира
бупне често у сулудо стање
док тежња кновом упорна у мааму,
ал уместу тапкам, поразно сазнање
у генима спласла сисатами једра
прикован за место. . . а даљине мааме
немири кидају - судба старог кедра
маћи би хтео . . . из живота таме
при сусрету лажне наде будим
све ме чешће затиче кајање
скромно желим а још мање нудим
једном речју . . истиче трајање
100litza
"O, te u dane mi se praneti
U nepoznate egzoticne kraje.
Predeo dalek , gde ce me uzeti
Priroda dobra s dusom mojom da je
Ko dobra majka utesi , uljulja."
Lepo vreme za stolicu
SL
He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women , nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach......[Old Man and the sea - E.H]
Homeland by Adonis May 12,
Homeland
by Adonis May 12, 2008
To faces shrunk under a mask of sadness
I bow down. To the paths where I forgot my tears,
for a father who died green, like a cloud,
a sail still unfurled in his face,
I bow down. To a child who has been sold
so he might pray and shine shoes.
(All of us in my country, we pray. All of us shine shoes.)
And to rocks where my hunger engraved a message:
This rock is really rain rolling under my eyelids, it’s lightning.
And I bow down to a house whose soil I carried with me
when I was lost. These all are my homeland. Not Damascus.
(Translated, from the Arabic, by Michael Beard and Adnan Haydar.)
prelepo
New Yorker??
Kod njih zaista ima fenomenalnih textova..
Aha. New Yorker. Harpers
Aha.
New Yorker.
Harpers magazine, even better.