Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Six November-December 2024.
Arab Poets & Writers
A man without a head, poems by Ahmed Nabawi.
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
A man without a head
A man without a head
Walks
And behind him
A people without their heads
They reproduce.
***
A man
Without a head
Walks backwards
He treads upon the ruins of ages
And digs through the days
For images
Of an ancestor like him
Sources have told
That thousands of innocent victims
Left life at his hands
And that…
A man from ancient times
Leads the morning engine
With lightness
And pulls the train cars
Backwards
A man
Moved by his hands
Have you ever seen
A man
Without a head
Walking?!
The door of joy
I hear his sobbing as he sings
And both of his hands are hanging on the door
He never leaves it
He is trying hard to laugh
He opens his lips
But the muscles of his cheeks do not obey him
He tries
But it is a withered laugh
Extinguished.
***
– O man:
Your days have decayed
And time has withered on your forehead
And your beard has aged
From how much it has soaked in your tears
– O my son:
Since they entered
And closed the door
And I am at the door.
***
I tried
But it did not open
And did not respond.
***
At the door
The rust of days has accumulated
Barricades of misery
Locks of pain
The bleeding of wounds
Chains of helplessness circle around him
And our friend
At the door has not left
Has not departed
And has not disappeared.
***
In the house
I extend my hand to the food
I see in the plates
Our friend’s tears
And his melodious voice
I curl up inside
I open the window of imagination, hoping to…
I hear my wife shouting, complaining
And I see our pious elder
Throwing his garbage into the street
And our devoted guard
Steals from the garden
And sells its fruits in front of the mosque—
After he prays the evening prayer—
While he thanks God for his lawful earnings
The voice of our annoying neighbor
Who never stops screaming day and night
Pulls me out of my window.
***
I flee towards our friend
Standing by the closed door
His voice comforts me
As he sings:
His stone house is made of flower
And its ceiling is the joy
The loved ones have vanished in the corridor of its allure
And in the fields of light
No matter how deeply they delve into the light
They have not departed
From their overwhelming charm
They stretched out their arms
And closed the door
Since then
I am by the door
They have not returned
Nor have they opened it.
© Ahmed Nabawi
Ahmed Nabawi is an 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 Brilliance 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 the Production of Significance – The Poetics of Small Details – The Contemplative Tendency in Andalusian Poetry – The Heritage Tributaries in Andalusian Poetry.
Salwa Gouda is an Egyptian literary translator, critic, and academic at the English Language and Literature Department at Ain-Shams University. She holds a PhD in English literature and criticism. She received her education at Ain-Shams University and California State University in San Bernardino. Furthermore, she has published several academic books, including Lectures in English Poetry and introduction to Modern Literary Criticism, and others. She has also contributed to the translation of “The Arab Encyclopedia for Pioneers,” which includes poets, philosophers, historians, and men of letters, under the supervision of UNESCO. Also, her translated poetry anthology, entitled Dogs Pass Through My Fingers, was published recently through Alien Buddha Press in Arizona, USA. Additionally, her literary translations have been published in various international magazines.