A Monkey Following a Monkey
1
A solitary light / a shadow in solitude
do not ask for an imprint on the body
do not ask for a trace of the tongue
2
Taming a stallion is nothing less than crowning the Queen
You demand that grain of wheat found under the throne –
I demand she who bears the mace
3
No inscription to denote, no relic to possess
only the ability to distil the hunch of survival
We were not passers-by – we did not live in vain:
With this hand I touch,
listening to the psalm of pulsation
intuiting the lesson of eternity
4
The secret vessels are riddled with cries and spells
The wine urn
shrouds itself in solemnity
The candles’ tongues gutter on the ceiling
inflaming the heart of the suitor
who highjacks the root of fertility with a song on the verge of extinction
5
This river never mingled with the river
Ever since boats were invented, fishing and the preparation of fish,
and the fruitful bounty of plenty was harvested,
since channels were cut and dredged
this river is Blood, stained with the tincture of history
a land inherited by vengeance
a woman helplessly roaming and roaring in a cave
Was I there – there and then?
Basalt tapering cylinder vessel, the exterior sculpted in high relief with images of a male baboon on hind legs, holding forward a vessel of the same form. The scene may be a Meroitic version of the main ancient Egyptian myth of healing, in which Thoth in baboon form brings the eye of the sun-god back from Nubia, as the fertile Nile flood returns each summer from south to north. 500 bc–ad 100. uc44307
Monkey following a Monkey the Fable Treaty
1
Here, the shadow in solitude / the light in loneliness
don’t ask for the indentation (imprint) of the body
only for the effect (trace, mark) of the tongue
2
taming an stallion
is not less than crowning a Queen,
you ask me for a grain of wheat under the throne!
I am asking her, she who carry the Mace.
3
no inscription to denote, no relic to own
only the ability to distil the hunch of survival
we were no passers-by، we were not in vain: I touch with my hand,
listening to the psalm of pulsation
and intuit the eternal lesson
4
the utensils of secrets are fraught with yodels and spells
the wine urn
shrouds itself in solemnness
on the ceiling, the tongues of the low candles flames
inflaming the suitor’s chest
who is highjacking the root of fertility with a song on the verge of extinction
5
the river did not blend with the river
since the invention of boats، fishing and cooking fish,
the hauls of the year, bounty of seasons of plenty, fruits,
the know-how of trenching
the river is Blood, always followed by remorse of history
a land inherited by vengeance
A woman helplessly swirling and roaring in her cave!
Was I present there and then?