قصيدة النيل - قراءة الشمس Poem of the Nile

قصيدة النيل - قراءة الشمس

سورة :

تصعدُ الجدرانُ في اللبلاب
والخرطوم واقفةٌ على ساقٍ تغنِّي
هل ينام النيل ؟!
كنا عاشقين نهدهد الأطفال
- ما اسمي ؟!
- أسمّيك حضور الأرض فاقتربي
-وما طعم البكاء 
... ... ...
إفترقنا
 
سورة:
النيل يمضي هادئاً
ينساب في صمت المدينة واحتراقات القرى
والأصدقاء الآن لا يتبادلون تحية الصبح
ولا يتعارفون
وأنبياء الفقر في كلِّ الأماكن
يرشفون الشايّ والحزن ولا يتحدثون
يخبئون الموت في أطرافهم
ويوزعون الصبر للأطفال
ينتشرون في الأشجار عبر الأرض
ينتحرون في الليل احتجاجاً
ويرتحلونْ
 
تصعد الجدران في اللبلاب
والخرطوم جالسة على مقهى تدخِّنُ
استوى في الليل قطَّاع الطريق
وعابرو نصف المسافة
هل يكون الشارع الآن امتداداً
لاختناق الليل بالعربات والعُهر
وكنَّا عاشقين ، نفتِّش الأطفال
والأطفالُ في رئة المخابز
يسرقون النار
- مااسمي
- أسميك احتراق الأرض،  فانتفضي
- وما طعم الرماد
... ... ...
إفترقنا
 
سورة:
الماء ضدّ النار
والأمواج خارطةٌ تفرُّ من البلادْ
النار ضدّ الماء
والدخان ذاكرةٌ تؤسِّسُ للرمادْ
الصبيّةُ بين سكِّيني وقلبي
 
والمدينة قبضةُ القمحِ
بحافظة المرابين وتجار العبيدْ
والرجال السمر يقتربون يقتربون
يا نيلُ  ..
الي أي الصحارى تحمل الآن تصاويري وتمضي
 

وقفتي بين الجياد أمام بابك عُمْرَةٌ للروح

 

والصمت المعلق بيننا

 
لغةٌ من الزمن الجميل إلى الزمان المستحيلْ
يا أيها النيل - أبي
هل كانت الأشجارُ نافذةً
لأحزان النساء أم المرايا هشَّمت في الماءِ
تاريخ الحضور الأنثويّ
 

وثبتتْ في العشب لون الفقر

إن الفقر ينبت في أراجيح الصغار
يورِّثُ الأطفال صمت اللعنة الكبرى وكفر الأولينْ
 

سورة:

النيل يفتح ساعديه
يحدِّث الطير المهاجر ثم يصمت
يعتلي عرش المكان ولا ينامُ ..ولا ينامْ
النيل يسكر بالنفايات
ويَقْنعُ بالمدينة و انكسار الليل
يصعد في الزمان ولا ينامُ ..ولا ينامْ
طلعتْ من الشمس الطبولُ
ورقرق الضوء الغناء على مسام الروح
والماء استراحات المراكب من عناء الريح
فجَّر النيلُ الزمان وقد أطلت - فجأة- مروي
ووجه العاشق النوبي
 
إذْ يمشي على حزن السواقي
وهو يبحث في الجياد عن الرجولة
أين تبدأ دورة الدم يا بعانخي
أين يحتدمُ النزيفُ
وأنت مستندٌ على " كوش " التي اهترأت من الصمت المريرْ
 
قل للجياد تحرَّكي ، تقف المياه على أناملها
وتنشطرُ الخرائط
هل تضيعُ الأرض ، والنيل اكتمالٌ للقرون القادمةْ ؟!
 
النيل يعرف سوءةَ المدن التي ضاعتْ
ويعرف موقف الزمن القديم
ولا يحدِّثُ
إنه النيلُ وللأجيال أن تمضي
وللأطفال أن يقفوا على الشطِّ طويلاً في انتظار العاقبة!
 
سبتمبر 1988م
 

Poem of the Nile

Prelude:
Walls climb the ivy
And Khartoum, poised on its unamputated foot
 
Singing
Will the Nile ever escape into sleep?
We were the most loving of lovers, children trickling from us
 
- What name do you give me?
 
- I call you Presence of Earth
 
- Come closer then
 
- What will be the taste of grief?
 
- .....................
And we parted!
 
Sura:
The Nile flows quietly…
 
Seeping through the city’s silence
 
And the burning sorrows of villages.
 
Now friends no longer exchange greetings each morning
 
No longer recognize each other.
 
Everywhere one sees them, these one-time prophets,
 
Poverty-stricken, sipping their tea, their tears,
 
Speechless.
 
They hide death in their fraying clothes,
 
And all they can say to our children is: patience.
 
They fade into the trees, commit suicide
 
At night, derive from alcohol
 
Their arguments, embark on futile wars
 
With their women, give up
 
Their prayers, then disappear.
 
Walls climb the ivy
And Khartoum, sitting in a café
 
Smoking
In the dark you can’t tell apart
Muggers from those whose journeys they’d cut short.
We were lovers, looking for our children
Who were breaking into bakeries, stealing fire
From the ovens’ throats.
 
- What name do you give me?
 
- I call you earth’s Fiery Anger
 
- So rise up
 
- What will be the taste of ashes?
 
- .....................
 
And we parted!
 
Sura:
Fire is the opposite of Water
And Smoke is a memory that prepares us only for ash.
Water is the opposite of Fire
And the waves are like maps, rippling across the land.
And the girl? She is somewhere between this heart and this knife…
 
City – you’re a handful of grains of wheat, tucked
 
Into the purses of usurers and slave-traders.
 
And the black men
 
Are approaching, approaching. River Nile
 
To what deserts are you taking my reflections? You depart
 
And I stand among the horses, by your gate,
 
And my soul would embark on a holy journey too,
 
For the silence suspended between us
 
Is a language floating among the ruins of a beautiful, 
 
vanished past.
 
O River Nile, father
Were the trees merely windows reflecting women’s sorrows,
Or have your waters shattered their images,
Drowned the history of women,
And painted forever their meadows the colour of poverty?
Poverty invades the children’s playgrounds, leaving
Them silent, accursed, their heritage
Only anger and disbelief.
           
Sura:
The Nile opens his arms
Speaks to the migrant birds
 
Falls silent
Reigns
 
And never sleeps
 
Never sleeps
 
The Nile drinks dry the desert’s tavern,
Gets drunk on dumps of toxic waste,
Must survive in the city, falling apart
Each night, rising up through its history
 
And never sleeps
 
Never sleeps
 
The drums began with the sun
And its light filtered songs that entered into the pores of the soul.
In the river’s shallows boats sheltered from toil and wind.
Now the carnivals of the blacks take fire
And the Nile has burst through the layers of time.
 
And, see, the kingdom of Meroë appears
And the face of the Nubian lover
Who walks among the sorrows of the waterwheels
Searching for warriors among the horses.
Where does the line of ancestral blood begin
And when does the blood loss reach its climax,
O King Piankhy, enthroned ruler of Kush,
A kingdom unravelling in bitter silence?
 
Shout at the horses, and let
The waters ready themselves.
Let the maps explode. How can the land be lost
When the future belongs to the Nile?
 
The Nile knows of the disgrace of cities
That have vanished.
Knows of the old times
Yet never speaks.
It is the Nile…
Generations will pass, and there will always be children
Lingering on its banks,
Waiting
For it all to end.
 

Poem of the Nile - A Solar Reading

Prelude
Walls climb up the ivies
And Khartoum poised on one foot
singing
Will the (river) Nile ever sleep?!
We were two amorous lovers creating children
- What's my Name?
- I name you the Presence of earth
So come closer
- What will be the taste of grief?
- ………………
And we parted!
 
Sura
The Nile quietly flows…
seeping through the city's silence
and villages' burnt aches
friends will not exchange (their) morning greetings now
nor recognise each others' (faces)
Everywhere the(se) prophets of poverty
Drink (sip) their teas and sip their griefs (tears)
and say nothing
They hide death in their (tattered) clothes
and offer children: patience
They merge with the trees on earth
kill themselves at night
and borrow the reasoning of a bottle of drink
fake wars on women
say no prayers
and vanish
.....
Walls climb up the ivies
And Khartoum sitting at a café
smoking
In darkness muggers and half-distance's passers-by are equal
Will the street(s) now be choked with cars and (moral - political prostitution) ….?
 
We were two amorous lovers searching for children
And the (children) were (clambering) at bakeries throats
steeling fire
- What's my Name?
- I name you the Blaze on earth
So rise up
- What will be the taste of ashes?
- ………………
And we parted!...
 
Sura
Fire versus Water
And the Smoke is a memory that will (only) furnish for (the advent of) ash
Water versus Fire
And the waves are maps fleeing from the land
The girl is (somewhere) between my heart and knife
And the city - a handful of grains of wheat - tucked in usurers' and
>slave-traders' purses
And the black men are nearing
and nearing…
O river Nile…
To which deserts are you now taking my reflections and leaving?
Standing among the horses by your gate
is a pilgrimage of (my) the soul
and the silence reigning (suspended ) between us
is a language floating from the (old) beautiful times to the impossible (illusive) times
O river Nile - father
Were the trees (only) windows for the women to (shed) their (tears) and sorrows - griefs
Or have the mirrors (shattered) in (your) water(s)
crushed the history of the feminine
and fixed the colour of poverty on the (waters) meadows
Poverty grows on children's (playground) swings
bequeaths them the silence of an eternal curse
and the
disbelief of the ancient (i.e. of people from ancient times)
The Nile opens its arms
Speaks to the migrant birds
and falls into silence
reigns on the throne of the place
and never sleeps
never sleeps
The Nile dries up the desert's tavern
Gets drunk on waste (i.e. intoxicates itself on waste) (1)
And be content with (living in) the city and breaking at night
rising up through the times
and never sleeps
never sleeps.
 
...
 
The drums rose up from the Sun
And (trickles of) light attenuated songs through the pores of soul
Waters are lulls for the boats (to rest) from the toil of wind
The carnivals of the Blacks are raging (burning)
And the Nile has burst through the times
And all of a sudden (the kingdom of) Maroe appears
and (appears) the face of the Nubian lover
as he walks among the sorrows of the waterwheels
searching for the braves among the horses.
Where does the circle of (our) (ancestors') blood begin O King Baankhi (Bia)
when does the bleeding heighten
as you rest on (throne of the kingdom of) Kush
as she unravels under the callous (bitter) silence?
Holler on the horses to move
and waters will stand on its feet- toes (with readiness)
Maps will be split. How can the land be lost
(while) the Nile is the zenith of the centuries to come?!
The Nile knows (about/of) the disgrace of the cities
that are lost
Knows of (the state of) old times
Yet never speaks
It is the Nile…
And generations will pass by
Children will linger for long by its banks (the shore)
waiting for the upshot.
...
 

Meroë: Capital city of the ancient Sudanese Kingdom of Kush.

King Piankhy: Kushite king who conquered Egypt.


(1) In the literal translation, ‘gets drunk on waste’ is a reference to an alleged incident of dumping nuclear waste in Sudan by the American government in the 1980s.

Original Poem by

Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi

Translated by

Hafiz Kheir with Mark Ford Language

Arabic

Country

Sudan