Live Encounters Arab Women Poets & Writers June 2026
The Threshold of Morning, poems Hawaa AL-Qamudi
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
The Threshold of Morning
The threshold of morning
wants me to write
hot poetry
when a hand touches it,
it burns with the flame of meaning,
coursing with the sea’s breath:
drums of love, rain’s jubilant cries.
Wants me to bind the notebooks of days
with colored thread,
with spring-butterfly wings,
wants the poem to flower
like the first budding of a breast.
But every day
I stop at the threshold of morning
and say:
The sun is shining.
Kids’ voices – full of thrill.
Grocers flaunting their goods,
strawberries flashing red.
(And this is Reham, my little friend – she loves reading,
craves Youssef Al-Sharif’s stories,
her smile spills, her cheeks blush.)
So why is my heart so full of gloom?
I stumble on the road
stones and cement,
men with long beards
and djellabas cut too short.
How I need to scream
to write a naked poem
that flashes my longing for your kiss,
the bleeding ache for your scent.
But
my country is dying.
And I am
standing
on the threshold
of fifty-six.
It’s Okay… A Few Tears
It’s okay, a few tears.
Like a lost star, I talk to my heart:
This road is not mine.
This hand doesn’t know me.
This country leaks through the cracks of my soul.
Is this not me?
The rasp in my voice, a meowing song,
or maybe a song that dies.
The nonsense I write means nothing to anyone.
It doesn’t warm a freezing child,
doesn’t soothe his trembling heart.
It won’t silence the hunger
gnawing the edges of the homeland.
My hand is bare.
It cannot clothe a girl whose house was stolen.
It’s okay!!!
The world is fighting terrorism,
and your naked body is just a minor casualty.
War is no longer an old crone
war has long ages now.
Beauty salons are perfectly capable of ugliness.
So it’s okay… a few tears.
Ahhh… ahhh!!!
Did I forget something?
This idiocy has forced me
camels are boring, they roll the rubble of my mind.
It barks. There’s an apparition.
The wind howls
Where am I?
That’s How She Screamed
That’s how she screamed,
that girl, when she was small.
She loved frogs.
The ribbit-ribbit music never bothered her.
She stood transfixed, watching those threads
swim in the village pond
how they grow fat with eggs,
then, poof!
tiny frogs hopping off.
An ordinary story.
Because the girl will go on to love
butterflies, starlings, even mice.
But the frog prince never came.
She waited a long time.
Wrote love letters,
sent them far and wide.
But one letter
lost its way.
A torn pocket hid it.
Mistaking the letter for a landmine,
he pulled its blue fuse,
read its lines.
They say the war is savage.
That the floods of love can no longer
even touch a rose.
Barrel bombs. Missiles.
A shard will pierce my heart
this heart that waits for you.
She waits for those lines.
What will you answer my heart?
Why did we turn away?
Why did we let the lines slip?
So that the girl never saw the frog
parading around with medals and ribbons.
Should I go on chattering?
There’s a lump in the throat.
A laughter cut short.
And music
that bird disturbs my soul.
I’m still chewing mulberry leaves.
Still weeping.
So much blood.
The night still hasn’t cleared.
And those lines, those lines I waited for,
maybe they’re still waiting.
I say: maybe.
Because the girl who loves you
will turn into a frog.
And over her speckled skin
you’ll run your hand.
She will never become a princess.
But as she reads your lines,
she turns back into a girl
barefoot,
weeping
because the connective hamza
came far too late,
and that final hamza
leaped right in her face.
O you agony
That’s how she screamed.
© Hawaa Al-Qamudi
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.
Hawaa Al-Qamudi is a Libyan poet who has published three poetry collections.