زِرٌّ مَفقـُودْ The Lost Button

زِرٌّ مَفقـُودْ

تبدو شَاحبة هذا الصباح
المارَّة يذهَبون بَعيداً عن الفَساتينَ الملوَّنَةِ
تصْطَفُّ المرايا على الرَّصيفِ تنْتَظِرُ وجوهاً
لا وجوه تفتَرِشُ الطُّرقَاتِ بعد
يغزو الوسَنُ أكفَّ المارَةِ المتلاصِقة
وحده قميص وحيد
يبدو على الدَّربِ فاغراً فاه للمدى
أي شوك رماك في درب المرايا؟
ينهض الصَّباح عن جُفونٍ مُثقَلةٍ بالدائرين حَول اللاشيء
 
وحده القَميصُ من يعْرِفُ وجْهَهم
وحده
ووحدهم يغتَرِفونَ اللذة القادمة من تفاصيل المساومة
يغرق في الترقب لآتٍ لم يعرف ثمناً لشيء
لم يعرف كيف يمتص الشبقَ من زرٍّ مَفقود
في النصفِ المختفي وراء الرقم المدوَّنِ في الفَراغ البعيد
يَتلمِسُ الزرُّ نفسَه ويطلِقُ تنهداته
 
حين عبرَتْ يدُها الواجِهةَ الزجاجيَّةَ واكتشفَتْ غيابَه
تلاشَتْ صورُ العابرين في عَتْمَةِ غيبتها الطرية
هي الطراوة دائماً سرَّ التوهجِ المتَساقِطِ في الواجِهَةِ الزُّجَاجيَّةْ.
 
 
 

The Lost Button

This morning, the shop windows look drab.
People hurry straight past the gaudy dresses.
Mirrors lined-up on the pavement wait for reflections.
The streets still deserted,
the sticky palms of passers-by are lined with sleep.
Then a solitary shirt
gapes wide open on the path -
what cast you in front of these mirrors?
Morning lifts from the heavy eyes of those wandering
            aimlessly.
Only the shirt knows their face.
Only the shirt -
yet their only pleasure is bargaining.
The shirt shivers in anticipation,
longing for someone who cares nothing for prices,
who knows nothing of sucking the desire from a button,
a button half-hidden, stitched to a label, lost in the folds
            of cloth:
the button touches itself and lets out a sigh of relief.
It was when her hand moved across the window
that she found this lost button.
Alert, lost in thought, she forgets the strangers passing
            her by.
She flushes with tenderness, with the secret aftermath
            of desire,
dazzling the window.
 

We made two attempts at this poem: one in a workshop where we got half-way through and then had to call it a day, and then later on in our small group of translators from Arabic comprising Anna Murison, Sara Vaghefian, Samra Said and Worod Musawi. As ever, Worod was particularly helpful.

This is a highly eroticised poem, as are a number of Faten’s other poems – a daring stance for a woman poet from Gaza writing in Arabic. It was Worod who enlightened us as to what ‘the lost button’ actually might be. Once we understood that, the rest of the poem gradually fell into place.

Non-native speakers of Arabic find it almost impossible to discern the pronouns used in poetry – which, of course, makes translating Arabic poetry all but impossible.

A Lost Button

The front of the shop appears pale/dim/dull this morning
The passers by are going far from the coloured dresses
The mirrors are arranged/are lined up/line up on the pavement awaiting faces
No faces furnish/cover/spread out in the passageways/alleys yet
Slumber/somnolence invades the sticky palms of the passers by
On its/his own a single shirt
Appears on the path gaping a mouth to the distance [perhaps ie wide open]
Which thorn threw you in the path of the mirrors? [bold type as in original]
The morning rises up from eyelids heavy with those who revolve/wander around nothing
On its/his own he/it who knows their face
On its/his own
And on their own they ladle/scoop the coming enjoyment/deliciousness from the details of the haggling/bargaining
It/he drowns in the anticipation ??? [laatin] he did not know the value of a thing
It/he did not know how to suck/soak up/lap up the lust/lewdness/desire from a lost button
In the half hidden behind the number written/recorded/registered in the distant void
He fumbles for/gropes for/feels the button itself and lets out his sighs
When her hand crossed the glass front and she discovered its absence
The images of the passers by vanished/dwindled in the gloom/darkness of her fresh/tender absence/disappearance
She [is] the freshness always the secret of the disappearing/falling/disintegrating blaze/glitter in the glass front.
 

Original Poem by

Fatena Al-Gharra

Translated by

Anna Murison with Sarah Maguire Language

Arabic

Country

Palestine