Live Encounters Poetry & Writing September 2024
In Praise of Cruelty, poem by Atef Abdel-aziz.
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
In Praise of Cruelty
I killed the goddess of love
I killed the playful deity who ruined my life
And the lives of others.
I met her after midnight
She was wandering as usual on the riverbank
In her crimson dress
She looked beautiful, gazing absentmindedly
Toward the water
Her long hair was adorned with two touches
Of moonlight
I lingered for a moment, contemplating her oppressive presence
And the more her splendor increased in my eyes
The more resolute I became in luring her
to her fate.
“Good evening, my lady.”
She turned to me with dark eyes,
I imagined they were looking but not… seeing.
I said, “I am a sad man,
A sad man who left a full bottle
Of aged wine at home
And there is no one to share it with him.”
The woman smiled with her lips pressed together
Then said, “It’s alright,
It’s alright as long as you return me here
Before the night is over.”
I prepared a poisoned drink for her
While she was lost in thought, gazing at a replica
Of a Picasso painting
Which I had purchased one day
At an auction.
Time slipped away:
Each time my friend reached for a glass
I handed her another
Until she lay sprawled on my couch like a forest
Of burning violets,
And slipped into death.
…
A shiver ran through me
So I carried her light body to where she wanted
And cast it into the depths of the water.
The city now lies upside down as if a storm
Had swept through:
People are confused
Searching for a goddess under whose steps
The grass would turn green
And the basil would sigh
The poets have come to a standstill
Their pens have dried up in their drawers
And the pages have folded
They wander the streets, searching
For cruelty
Yes, cruelty!
The very thing they have long reveled in within her cursed Paradise
Trying to find the lost meanings
As for the lovers
They turned away from their beloved after their hearts dried
And became devoid of chaos
Instead, they began to bask in a bliss of calm
And boredom.
I killed the goddess of love
And now I have nothing left to do
I spend my entire day indulging in my bliss
like everyone else,
Until my legs grow weary
And at night
I lie on my couch, with a poisoned drink
Beside me
Yet, I find no one to carry my body
To the water.
© Atef Abdel-aziz
Atef Abdel-aziz is an Egyptian poet and critic who published 12 poetry collections in addition to a critical book. His poems have been translated into several languages including English, French, Spanish, Kurdish and Persian. Furthermore, he participated in many international conferences and festivals in Iraq, Syria, Morocco, Kurdistan and others and has received many local and international honors and awards.
Dr. 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.