الرئيسية / ترجمات / Your soul, two and a half meters

Your soul, two and a half meters

Translation from Arabic Dr. Yousef Hanna | Palestine
By Fathi Muhadub| Tunisia
(If I could live again)
I’m going to build a beautiful apartment for insanity
And fill it with flower vases and music.
I’ll summon Sylvia Plath to clean the family’s noose of blood stains.
I’ll nominate Charles Bukowski to deliver the eulogy by signal.
I will be a good member of a fresh funeral.
I will trim the branches of the coffin
And from the tears of widows I’ll make pineapple juice.
I’ll play basketball in the morgue
With Jorge Luis Borges.
I will be a good pilot picking stars
And distribute it to the poor.
If I could live again
I’ll invite suicides to a fancy dinner party.
I will go to cemeteries in the dark.
My gun will light up like Aladdin’s lamp.
I wake up a lot of dead people.
Give them baskets of mangoes.
I dedicate my bike to a fresh corpse.
If I could live again
I’ll fill my pocket with a rainbow,
Empty my mother’s eyes from the clouds,
Wash her wheelchair once a day,
Wipe her prayer glass from rust and dust.
If you can live again
I will not think about the grave torment
Or about a fire arsenal key pack
I will not think of the fresh rivers and the slender maids.
I will prevent the first bugs from visiting my head.
I’ll build amazing nests for the mystics
To tweet away from the hustle and bustle of the city
And to sleep like persecuted storks
On the straw of Utopia.
I will build a Seljuk-style shelter
For orphans and philosophers
And whenever I get upset,
I ride the horse of my imagination
And chase the blond gymnast..
Time that never sag.
If you could live again
I’m going to bang Queen Bilqis in the pub.
I’ll slap her on the back lest she surrender to Solomon’s soldiers.
I will demolish her elegant palace with my teeth.
And castrate the stinking hoopoe
I denigrate his repute with the bird logic.
I don’t like big money changers, arms dealers and priests.
If I could live again
I will make a great boat
And carry my contradictions like prisoners of war.
I would treat my childhood too kindly
Protect it from snipers and dinosaurs
From the time with sharp claws
And from the wolves rushing through the arteries
I will treat it like a pharaonic queen
In Tutankhamun’s palace
I raise to her prayers and offerings
I guard it from intrigues and traps
From logopedic cheetahs and logician cicadas,
The water will be the guardian of the faithful house
And the seven brightest stars of Ursa Major will be my ethereal neighbors.
If I could live again
I will plant a cocoa tree in the brothel,
Listen carefully to the eloquence of the body
The boobs of prostitutes’ roar.
And the broken jar of lust at the bottom.
I will stab the prostitute with my tongue.
I will go to war
to recover the corn fields,
My family’s lost treasure.
I will have many pike friends.
I will decide my fate in the grove of my neighbor Mary.
I confess to the almond trees my repeated crimes,
my premeditated killing the deer of last week.
my mortal sin practicing on the bus.
The irony of the nature of things.
I will weep for a long time in the desert
Waiting for God’s appearance
Or for a mail carried by an angel from Lote Tree of the Utmost Boundary.
I will quarrel with Zarqaa’ El-Yamama
Unleashing the bulls of doubt to invade the castle.
I will try to forget everything;
The day I was born in miserable circumstances.
The slaps I received in June.
I will somewhat reduce my masturbation wars.
I’ll close the door of my imagination in the face of beauties.
I’ll keep the water of the breed from extinction.
And wear a Roland Barthes hat after his gruesome death.
To flourish the tree of critique in my imagination.
I’ll try to forget the blind
Who conversely carried me on his back in Latakia lanes
Ali Ibn al-Qarih follows us on a straw bike.
If I could live again
I’m going to eat pizza slices greedily,
To ride on my neighbor’s chunky ass,
To drink wine in the recovery room,
And I’ll fill my life with jewelry and women.
I will be an important theoretician of the River Being
I’ll celebrate Matsuo Bashō’s frog.
By strange hazard chance algae
By the enchanted rhythm of water
I will force Sisyphus to cut off his testicles
And feed the leopard of meaningless.
I will pray once a week.
And think about the structure of this complex void.
I’ll rip my inner face of and throw it to the worry fish.
I’ll fill my Dadaist eyes with cubes of light.
I will lead the savage world to a fair trial.

عن عالم الثقافة

ناصر أبو عون - رئيس تحرير جريدة عالم الثقافة

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