Jesper Berg 

on Lyrikline: 1 poems translated

from: arabic to: english




arabic | Golan Haji

من ثقبين في قلبِ الشجرة
       ينظرُ إلينا الضوء
        مثل طفلٍ يلهو بالصور
            اسمهُ الموت،
     ويرى كيف اقتُلِعتِ الزهور
      فاقتلَعتْ جذورُها عظامنا.

في مدنٍ شُيَّدت من أصواتِ الموتى
   أمكنةٌ لن ندخلَها لأنها مثلنا
        بعيدةٌ مكروهةٌ رخيصة،
      أرقامٌ ترفعُ رؤوسَها وتفسدُ الأحاديث؛

كنا غُرَفاً على سطحِ العالم
    بناها الضوءُ من الصمت
      يستأجرها طلبةٌ وعمّالُ بناءٍ مفلسون،
     وتظلّلها دائماً
         كلماتٌ كثيرةٌ وسخة.

© Golan Haji
Audio production: Haus für Poesie, 2019

The Voyeur


Through two holes from the heart of the tree,
light is looking at us
like a child who plays with pictures
and whose name is Death,
seeing how flowers were plucked
with their roots uprooting our bones.

In cities erected from the voices of the dead
are places we will not enter because they are like us
– distant and cheap –
are numbers that raise their heads and spoil the conversations.

We were rooms on the roof of the world
that light built from silence,
rented by penniless students and construction workers,
always shaded
by many dirty words. 

Translated from the Arabic by Golan Haji in collaboration with Jesper Berg and Stephen Watts.
Published in Syria Speaks, Saqi Books, London, 2014