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THE COMING TIMEBy Yusra Al-Ayoubi |
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Nostalgic Poems The Coming Time |
THE COMING TIMEYou two lovers who rival Over my love and death Both of you are the wings Of a dying bird I penetrate from your pores into your cells Said the elements of degradation I destroy your resistance and immunity Therefore I 'm the new body The exhausting body answered No, you will die with me!
The coming time is pecking Inside me its hard shell It is my only love, it's the new body Illness is not its father Nor its mother the dying bird Not a swan did ever whisper
The son of nature The son of Man Never ashamed to be a sperm Or to dream the dreams of placenta Never feared the suffering of birth-time Don't ask me what is the colour of its eyes What is it, what is its name I didn't give it a name yet Neither I know the colour of its eyes I didn't embrace it yet To my longing breast Nor gave it the nipple to suck But I feel it so heavy I feel its extremities Knocking my sides While swimming in my womb Searching for a light The wind heard of it and said: I am the midwife, and warned me Deliver it piece by piece Hide it every limb apart That your lovers will know Nothing about its existence Then mourn it As did Isis When gathering the limbs of Osiris To blow in them life I want it to be whole My baby, my love I shall never surrender Even a hair or a nail-cutting. All of them want to efface it To dispatch it, to liquidate To strangle it before its date Not permitted its life to fight Not permitted to see the light Imposters are these doctors Swindlers, trick makers Surrounding me, Their breath is suffocating Their hands are impure Knives glimmer, lancers Forceps, glass balls Snowy shrouds And at the door's waiting A burial car, flower wreathes and music bands All these preparations for the coming time! I heard a whisper We have dug a hole Wide and deep the hole. Go away, all of you, sons of grave! I have cut my relations with you Even if you threaten with star war My child, the baby of coming time Will come to life, perfect, alive. |
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