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