خدر Delirium

خدر

إلى أيِّ مكان أذهبُ إليه، أظلُّ نزيل الغرفة التي تبخِّرها أمي كلَّ ليلةٍ برائحة أعشاب لا أعرفها. ماتت أمي وظلت هذه الغرفة المُبَخَّرة برائحة أعشاب لا أعرفها تنتقل معي مثل مدينة كفافي التي إذا خرَّبَ المرء حياته فيها فهي خراب أينما حلَّ، مثل أمثال جدتي الدائرية التي تظلُّ تعودُ على بدء.
 
كيف يمكن أن أكسر هذه الدائرة المُخدِّرة
 
وأمشي غير مسبوقٍ بكلمةٍ، خطوةٍ، رائحة؟
 

Delirium

Wherever I go, I remain in the room that my mother infuses each evening with the scent of herbs unknown to me. My mother died and the room retains this odour unknown to me. It travels with me like Cavafy’s City. There, if you ruin your life ruin follows wherever you go. It is like my grandmother’s perpetual proverbs which keep returning to the beginning.
 
How can I break out of this delirious circle
 
and walk as never before, unfettered by a word, a step, a fragrance? 
 

There was much debate over the title here – was the state described actually one of dizziness? Intoxication? We also played around with synonyms for smell a lot – was it an odour, scent, fragrance, stink? We felt there was something almost mystical about the mysterious herbs – the sense of a holy ritual. The poem also made a lot more sense to us once we had unpicked some of the allusions – the grandmother’s looping proverbs nod to One Thousand and One Nights whilst Nasser also paraphrases Cavafy’s poem ‘The City’:

This city will always pursue you. You will walk
the same streets, grow old in the same neighborhoods,
will turn gray in these same houses.
You will always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere else in the world.

(Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard)

Clare Pollard, Workshop Facilitator

Delirium

Wherever I go, I remain attached to the room that my mother infuses each evening with the smell of herbs unknown to me. My mother died and the room retained its fragrant smell that I cannot identify. It travels with me like the city of Cavafy. There, if you ruin your life, ruin follows you wherever you go. It is like my grandmother’s never ending proverbs which keep reverting to the beginning. 
 

There was much debate over the title here – was the state described actually one of dizziness? Intoxication? We also played around with synonyms for smell a lot – was it an odour, scent, fragrance, stink? We felt there was something almost mystical about the mysterious herbs – the sense of a holy ritual. The poem also made a lot more sense to us once we had unpicked some of the allusions – the grandmother’s looping proverbs nod to One Thousand and One Nights whilst Nasser also paraphrases Cavafy’s poem ‘The City’:

This city will always pursue you. You will walk
the same streets, grow old in the same neighborhoods,
will turn gray in these same houses.
You will always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere else in the world.

(Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard)

Clare Pollard, Workshop Facilitator

Original Poem by

Amjad Nasser

Translated by

Atef Alshaer with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Arabic

Country

Jordan