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14th Anniversary Edition, Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Seven Nov-Dec 2023.
The scavenger, poems by Ahmed Nabawi.
The scavenger
On our street
– East of the mainland –
Where our homes are located
The scavenger sweeps the street
– Every morning –
From above the sidewalks
Papers
And hypocritical wishes
And virginity of dreams
And evenings bleeding
***
He is sweeping
From under the walls
The shadows of withered bushes
And the remains of ages
That leaks from under the doors
And the remains of rendezvous
And tears
Falling from balconies
***
The scavenger sweeps the street
Between the cracks in the asphalt
Falling minds
And fingers of questions
And ambitions
And he packs – every evening –
In his trash can
Tons of visions
And a flame of feelings
And groans
Oh poor street scavenger
How tired he is
In collecting our garbage
Hell
Sartre
You are very delusional, my friend
Hell is not others
You are delusional when you see me as hell for you
Suppose I do not exist
Do you feel ecstatic alone
That my presence is not a threat to yours
And your presence for me is not like that
Do you think that if you take what is in my hand
You will achieve purpose and perfection
You are delusional, my friend
Without my presence, this would not have been possible
So let us switch roles
Put yourself in my place
And put me in your place
Look accurately and carefully
Do you see hell well
***
Sartre
You are racist enough
To see me as hell for you
As for me, I do not see you like that
You are my hand
And I am your leg
I see in you what I lack
And I have something that you cannot comprehend on your own
But because you are selfish
You imagine that I am blocking you
From what you cannot achieve on your own
You cannot be everything, my friend
You are poor without me
Even if you had everything
And I am the same without you
You are lame
You need to lean on my shoulder
And I am helpless
I need your hand to help me
Sartre, my friend
My hand extended to you
Could you please extend your hand so that we can walk together?
Corona comes out of his cave
Coronavirus comes out of his cave
Who convinces sadness
Whose armies occupied the houses of Wuhan*
To leave in peace
Who picks up the fear from the hearts of its inhabitants?
And sweeps the terror off its streets
Who convinces death
To bring back his eagles of prey
Launched in the skies of (Wuhan)
She kidnaps people with her claws
Who is the magician
who puts Corona back to the bottle
again
And throws it into the sea of nothingness
Who can convince the virus
Not to spread his offspring outside the borders
Who is that Solimani
Who commands the wind
To bear his offspring
And throw it
In the forest of oblivion
O humans
The species distressed
From your heft on her shoulders
When will you realize
That you are a resident of this big house
And you have to respect the feelings of others
When will you comply with the terms of the contract
That you signed with the owner
And you realize what it means
For the game to rebel against its maker
****
Corona
O smallest population
And the fiercest
I beg you
To untie your grip
On the neck of (Wuhan)
And return to your cave in peace
* (Wuhan: The first Chinese city where the Corona virus appeared)
© Ahmed Nabawi
Ahmed Nabawi is a contemporary Egyptian poet and academic. He deals with humanitarian themes in his poetry. His poetic career began early in the nineties. He has five collections of poetry: (Testimony of Love – Wounds Have Tributaries – Flames of Questions – ((Scenes from the Refugee Camp)) – The Flourishment of Colors) and two collections in print entitled (An Ant Said – The Doors). In addition, he has a collection of critical books, including The Poet’s Culture and Significance Production – The Poetics of Small Details – The Contemplative Tendency in Andalusian Poetry – The Heritage Tributaries in Andalusian Poetry.