باللغة الإنجليزية
SAADIA MUFARREH
translation by Hend Mubarek Aleidan with Patty Paine
1
Soon she will leave. She is
busy choosing her finest dress.
She applies her makeup precisely,
and reviews missed calls
on her cell.
2
She is making an ordinary
lunch while writing her dead
poetry. She sings
with the rhythm
3
of the Gulf.
She mixes surprise
with wet salt, she draws her small
house of grey stones.
4
She creates language
and it dances
on arpeggios.
For who, all these words?
For who is she sharpening
her pencils?
5
With a touch she creates
humanity and its last days.
She needs no philosophy
to give existence reason.
She fills joy’s halls
with secrets, she travels
to places with no maps.
6
She darkens her eyes
with kohl, draws on
her favorite lipstick,
then she leaves her room
full of crime.
Contributor’s notes : Saadia Mufarreh
Contributor’s notes : Hend Mubarek Aleidan
Contributor’s notes : Patty Paine