Live Encounters Arab Women Poets & Writers June 2026
Nebula, poems Fawzia Alawi Alawi.
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
Nebula
So now I have all this time
and all this empty, ashen space.
Nothing but time,
nothing but space.
What shall I do with all this eon,
and what, I wonder, shall I fill the hours with?
I don’t have enough work to do,
nor do I own a single thing—
not even a reed hut to build,
not even birds to invite so they might nest here.
If I were Solomon,
I would summon the jinn to build their towers
or fetch every giant cauldron,
or bring me whatever throne I wished.
If I were Bilqis (the Queen of Sheba),
I would bare my legs,
I would command the direction of my longing’s bed,
and call the sand grouse
to accompany me back to my blessed land.
If I were Mary, I would stand by the palm trunk.
But I have none of prophecy’s magic.
So what do you think—how shall I fill this barren land?
How will I save myself from emptiness,
from this time drawn out like an epic?
What shall I recite into it?
And whom shall I call to keep me company,
to comfort me with tears or with listening?
Oh, the tyranny of emptiness!
Oh, how this void has turned into a nebula.
Where could I possibly bring people from here?
Not even Cain, not even Abel
so the raven could make peace between them.
They both died, the earth lay empty,
and all the tribes vanished at once.
So where shall I find another Dahḥās or Basūs
to rewrite history again?
Where shall I find grammar to correct the great mistake?
To record the days in pairs, like livestock,
and give back to poetry what the narrators forgot?
Where shall I find an inkwell of gold
to mend what the wind has torn?
Where, O house of Miyya on the heights,
or revive the fallen places of lovers
on Kabad?
This place is ruined
and stretches on like a strange tomb.
So where shall I find all the Ṭāsīns
to call out to all existence:
“I am the Truth”?
And have the stars pledge allegiance to me forever?
A Loosing Woman
I hate winter now.
Like any unpleasant surprise.
And I hate this primitive, embroidered dress
that makes me look like a shepherdess
on steppes whose names I don’t know
though I can perfectly picture the kind of women
who live there:
sad faces, hearts murdered by love.
Maybe it’s a still from some old film stuck in my head,
even though the movie back then was in another language
and the subtitles blurred past like lightning.
The neighbors
watch me with eyes
that mix wonder and envy.
A top-tier woman. Heavyweight.
Her pictures are in newspapers and on TV.
My mother, unlike them,
thinks I’m a loser.
Because the papers I carry,
the books I boil in the pot
where meat and vegetables should go
They’ve ruined me.
She never stops mourning her own time,
comparing it to what I live through.
She says: We wore colorful dresses,
embroidered sweaters,
scented our hair with Rêve d’Or,
folded our feet with henna for three nights,
then went to the beauty salon with silk bundles.
When one of us passed by,
The whole alley smelled of incense and perfume.
I listen to her, laughing,
staring at my stained jeans,
my dusty soldier-like boots,
My unpolished pointed nails,
my wedding ring that’s grown loose,
my face that barely smiles a lily.
I would have looked just like my mother
if not for the curse of this poetry
that has drunk my heart.
© Fawzia Alawi Alawi
Dr Salwa Gouda is an accomplished Egyptian literary translator, critic, and academic affiliated with the English Language and Literature Department at Ain Shams University. Holding a PhD in English literature and criticism, Dr. Gouda pursued her education at both Ain Shams University and California State University, San Bernardino. She has authored several academic works, including Lectures in English Poetry and Introduction to Modern Literary Criticism, among others. Dr. Gouda also played a significant role in translating The Arab Encyclopedia for Pioneers, a comprehensive project featuring poets, philosophers, historians, and literary figures, conducted under the auspices of UNESCO. Recently, her poetry translations have been featured in a poetry anthology published by Alien Buddha Press in Arizona, USA. Her work has also appeared in numerous international literary magazines, further solidifying her contributions to the field of literary translation and criticism.
Fawzia Alawi Alawi is a Tunisian poet, novelist and essayist who has published nine poetry and short story collections, in addition to a novel entitled “Faces for One Woman” (2020). She also won several national and regional awards.