تنقلات Movements

تنقلات

1
الاشتهاء مغامرة خرقاء
تفضي إلى مقارعة الطرقات .
 
2
الهروب رقصة على الغيم
وتنقلات على ريشة حمام
تتلاشى .
 
3
صوت البحر مدينة ملعونة
والقمر يضحك ساخراً
الماء وحده يعرف سر الغرق
والموج يحترف الارتجال .
 
4
الطرقات حافية
والمطر يغدو
متوحشاً أكثر .
 
5
هراء كل هذا الوقت
ما دمنا لا ننتزعه
من دمنا .
 
6
الأدرينالين يغزونا
حينما تمسمرُ أقدامنا
حبة الآيس كريم .
 
7
هل تستطيع نزع كفي
دون أن تسقط قبلة
أو تشرق قنبلة ؟
 
8
طق .. طق .. طق ..
لا أبواب بعد الآن
لهذه المدينة .
 
 
 

Movements

1
 
Lust is a mad adventure -
a struggle in the streets
 
2
 
Escape is a waltz with the clouds,
steps that vanish on the feathers of a dove
 
3
 
The sound of the sea: an accursed city
And the moon laughs mockingly
Water alone knows the secret of drowning
and the wave is master of improvisation
 
4
 
The streets are barefoot
Rain turns wild
 
5
 
Gossip all the time
unless we drain it
from our blood
 
6
 
Adrenaline overwhelms us
when we're impaled by desire
 
7
 
Can you unveil my palm
without a kiss
or a bomb?
 
 8
 
Tap... tap... tap...
From now on, no gates
to this city
 

The first encounter with the literal translation of a poem is often baffling and off-putting, and this poem by Fatena Al-Gharra was no exception. Until we started to work on each tiny poem, the whole thing made no sense at all. But as we finished each section, the piece fell into place and we felt very pleased with our results.

Movements

1
Libido/appetite/desire is a crazy risk
Which leads to a clash/battle of ways/streets.
 
2
Flight/escape is a dance on the mist/fog
And movements [same word as title] on the feather of a dove that disappears [the feather not the dove].
 
3
The voice/sound of the sea, an accursed city
And the moon laughs mockingly
Water alone knows the secret of drowning
And the wave is excellent at [ie the master of] improvisation.
 
4
The streets /roads/ways are barefoot [not sure if I got that word right]
And the rain becomes
More savage/wild.
 
5
Chatter/prattle of all this time
As long as we do not extract it/eradicate it
From our blood.
 
6
Adrenaline invades us
When our feet are nailed
By a grain/seed of kind ??????
[I know this bit makes no sense, sorry!]
 
7
Are you able to undress/strip my palm
Without dropping a kiss
Or a bomb shining?
[Play on words- kiss and bomb are quite similar words]
 
8
Knock... Knock... Knock... [Or tap]
From now on there are no doors
To this city.
 

The title can be translated as ‘Movements’ /shiftings/changes of location; in fact this word is the one used for moving house to a new place.

Original Poem by

Fatena Al-Gharra

Translated by

Anna Murison with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Arabic

Country

Palestine