SALEM:
TRANSLATION "PEACE"
Poem for Today - Monday - September 22, 2014
JERUSALEM
I cried till there
were no more tears,
prayed till the
candles melted, knelt till kneeling bored me.
I asked about
Muhammad in you, and about Jesus.
Jerusalem, City
which smells of prophets,
shortest of roads
between the earth and the sky
Jerusalem,
lighthouse for ships,
beautiful
girlchild with burnt fingers—
Your eyes are sad,
City of the virgin,
luscious garden
where the prophet passed.
The stones of the
streets,
the minarets of
the mosques, are sad.
Jerusalem, beauty
wraps in black:
Who rings the
bells in the Church of the Resurrection
Sunday Mornings?
Who carries the toys to the children
Christmas night?
Jerusalem, city of
grief,
large tear that
roams under the eyelids:
Who repulses
your enemies, O
pearl of religions?
Who washes the
blood from the stones of the walls?
Who salvages the
Bible
Who salvages
Christ from his assassins?
Who salvages man?
Jerusalem, my city
Jerusalem, my love
Tomorrow, tomorrow
the orange trees will bloom
and the green
wheat rejoice,
and eyes and olive
trees will laugh.
Migrating doves
shall return
to the blessed
rooftops
and children will
come back to play.
Fathers and sons
will meet
on your tall
hills, my country,
country of peace
and olive trees.
(1968)
© Nizar Qabbani
(1923 -1998)
page 100 in When
the Words Burn,
An Anthology of
Modern Arabic Poetry: 1945-1987,
translated by John Mikhail Asfour
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