POEMA

A minute's speech to Oujda

The heart of Oujda is of stone,

Its hands a volcano and a wind,

And has no time for speech.

 

** **

 

Here life passed me by

Here it passed

Leaving me in your weary arms

Striking the gates of silence,

O city of death,

Hoping that you open a door

[ to dialogue

So can you spare some time

[for speech?

 

** **

 

Your silence is exhausting

The choke became heavier

The bridge – to you – longer

o may I leave

Or can you spare

Some time

For speech?

 

 

** **

 

 

You are a vertigo

With neither beginning

Nor end.

Come on stop a little while

I have a lot to say to you:

Air is all dust here

And life in you is like catching

[a cold.

So, could the world change

[tomorrow?

Could silence and gloom

vanish?

 

**

you are a gate

opening onto another gate

A wall ... a wall ...

And a wall,

And I have for years

Been searching inside you

For a place

and for speech …

 

 

2000, Touria Majdouline¹

From: al-Mut'aboon (The weary)

Publisher: Dar al-Jussor, Oujda

Translation: 2004, Abdellah Benlamine and Norddine Zouitni

 

Notas

¹Poetisa marroquina.