{"id":60460,"date":"2021-09-19T11:13:34","date_gmt":"2021-09-19T11:13:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.worldofculture2020.com\/?p=60460"},"modified":"2021-09-19T11:13:34","modified_gmt":"2021-09-19T11:13:34","slug":"the-sailor-who-sank-at-the-bottom-of-the-prison","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worldofculture2020.com\/?p=60460","title":{"rendered":"The sailor who sank at the bottom of the prison"},"content":{"rendered":"
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From Arabic Dr. Yousef Hanna | Palestine<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n
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By Fathi Muhadub | Tunisia<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n
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The doctor should not have woken me up in 1994<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He had to announce my death at one o’clock after midnight<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To knock gongs and bring clouds<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To laugh long like a gorilla<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Since my head is flat and full of dead wolves,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He had to pierce my head vertically for my nightmarish ewes to jump out one by one.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To takes good care of my sick memories<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To open windows widely<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Letting my soul ascend like a revered queen,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The Archangel to deliver a grandiose eulogy,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And the Red Indians to bring fire to the words,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To put a bouquet of roses on my corpse.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The doctor had to cut my finger off<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And to single out for my ring, which was gifted to me by a Gravedigger in a dark forest.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The doctor had to tie the ghosts with my arterial ropes<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Smells the scent of women who snatched the light cubes from the balcony of my heart<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Texts that died by gunshot<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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At the Interchange of madness<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The doctor had to separate the rock from my arched back<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To fill the void of morgue with my oppressed years.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The doctor had to think carefully<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To open fire on nostalgia birds<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To lure the goose of thinking into the oblivion garden.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He had to fight the monster hidden in my bones<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He had to refute the crow’s argument.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To carry my corpse in his limousine<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To be a fancy dinner for loose dogs.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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^^^<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In a acquainted tone, the doctor said:<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Soon, my son, you will lose your chestnut eyes.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You\u2019ll lose the outside world.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The light will let you down in critical places<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You will not see in front of your house the sun<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Distributing flashlights over the elements<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You won’t see a willow tree<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Fighting with one leg<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Since one hundred years<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You will never see the wrinkled bus<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Who spent his life crowded with ghosts.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You will not see your brunette neighbor<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Hanging apron of remorse on the clothesline.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You won’t see any butterfly drinking light with its tiny wings.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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But you can see with Imagined eyes<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Will sigh the beat of things from your ears\u2019 vessel.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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You can go to your heart<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In seclusion<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To help you carry the loads of the tactile senses.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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^^^<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Carlos told me<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Don’t be sad, Dad<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Not a single fish died in my head aquarium<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I did not forget my neighbor villagers<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While they were burying their dead in my mind<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To the rhythm of the of goats’ bells.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I have not forgotten the blond devil<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Who neighs in my veins.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I will fight the monsters of old hours,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The sounds filled with pebbles and moss<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I\u2019ll strike the day on its back like a lost fox.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Oh dad<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Do not be sad<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In prison over time<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The warden becomes with a thousand eyes<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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As if he was a goblin from \u201ca thousand and one nights\u201d,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or conductor of an orchestra in a tent,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Zarqa al Yamama. (*)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The sun is almost blind here<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Enters through the windows like a pregnant woman<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To be intercourse with prisoners stealthily<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Then she disappears before the guards detect her.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Carlos is a good son<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He sips fine whiskey<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In every night raid<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Planning a military coup<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To expel the blind fate from the hegemony<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And arrest of spies and chunky words to the void<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He has never hurt a bird\u2019s feelings<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He did not open fire on his evil childhood<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He did not kill a priest in the Titanic<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He loves dolphin dance at noon<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He only learned to draw coffins and charred corpses<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And laying mines in the rear of bad luck<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Carlos will break the world<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He will write a song about the sailors\u2019 death<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The ship sinking to the bottom of the prison.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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________________________<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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(^) In pre-Islamic Arabian tradition, Zarqa\u2019 al-Yamama was a blue-eyed woman with exceptional intuition, keen sight, and ability to predict events before they happened.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n