Two poems by Iraqi poet Fadel Soudani

 

Fadhil Soudani  Denmark 2
Fadel Soudani

The secret of the Incarnation

I am the son of the earth and the sailing stars in a jelly-like space. I dream like a star in a sky, far from the music of the planets, I lived my cities, the cities of haughtiness. Before its gates, the Gods of the evening become homeless. They search during the day for shadows in the horizon, and in front of its castle I waited for a Sufi sign.

At dusk, a tent rose in the sky of the dream. Between its pillars the stars touched. Silently I sat before the lamenting lady.
At the square of my cities, a white ivory bed emerged. Its posts from ebony; eyes ablaze in a mask of fire, rattles in the other galaxy and an echo.
’’I did not die; I burn in the transformation of the creatures.’’ The lamenting lady said.
Look, look a naked premature body and a dwarf spins with a silver spinning wheel.
Look… look,
The lamenting lady said.
Look…
On the way back, I was left by the Gypsies to dream as they departed towards eternity, they whispered a song:
‘’You are a stranger who can see in the darkness of the azure…’’
’’O stranger take us with you faraway ’.
‘’And just because I know those who are lending us the fire of heavens, I will give them the gift of the sacred pain’’

*

From which time does the dream come? Does it come from the vigour of the presence or the absence of the past? In a sea that glitters with stars, fascinated it by its mystery? Who will beat the drums of time at night?
O my night, the night of poets who are carelessly drawing their fates. In front of the lake of God, they grew green wings before they enter the secret forest with the amiability of the wise, to give the mermaids the secret of heaven.
Fire is the origin of existence as soon as it inhabits the home. Each vision is a fire and nothing glitters more than beauty.
Fire is the source of existence; it shines in the ash and does not wait for the arrival of poets, neither do the eyes see, nor does the rain whisper its song, it is the wind and nothing else. Fire is the origin o f entity. Who knocks at night?
Who uses fire as a mirror?
Who uses fire as a mirror?
Who uses fire as a mirror?

*

Nothing glitters in the immortal epoch other than the mirrors; a space breeds pure presence or an absence of kingdoms, like nausea, sheer absence in the horizon of attendance and the horizon of fading at dawn. The universe of mirrors disappears in coming or declining kingdoms. Through his mask, Adam watches past kingdoms, an absence of the presence and a presence of the absence?
Over there in the palace of the dead there is an immortality that wakes up with the dew, blesses the sea to depart with its waves, becoming mystic across the roads of the dead at the noon of the hour zero. O holy one, we did not see the worms of the past using your waves as a mirror. Since you called us we descended the stairs of the Milky Way. Its flat land had woken up the sun of the noon and the warmth of the sea. We joyfully came down in the well of time, the coffin of the living. The dead blew the horn. The earth is the nightmare of Adam and you are the one who revealed the prophecy.

Deluded he waits for the passing of the convoys of the dead. Lit cities where in its forest the serpentines pant, violating their females patiently. He hit it with his stick, it transformed into two long breasts. From the cross of the Calvary, he saw her transforming into a man. Ecstatic he lived the life of lust and vigour. Below the walls of Baghdad, he sat prophesying like a strange saint with his eyes filled with ash, in the blaze of the cities of delusion. He was hung on a wedge like a clock in the centre of the city, or in the woods, a pit of fire. The temple was filled with the smell of roast.

 

On a bank of an eternal river

 

A towering palm tree waits for the drowned person to pass
Floating
Naked of moss
A crown of willow
On the forehead
In his eyes shine dreams
The moon expels
The lost fish
Till the drowned person listens
For a whisper of a song with the wind
O river
Let me finish my anthem
Before my last dream
O river let me
Let me
The moon retreated

 

 

Translated from thq Arabic by Khaloud Al-Muttalibi