سرقات شاعرٍ مغمور

To the women torn apart

Translated by Valentina Viene

She washed herself in the street.

The river couldn’t be reached.

She took her clothes away in public

but she wasn’t naked:

there was a thick curtain of isolation and madness.

The people who never noticed her once

saw her with the eyes the wolf,

a large piece of flesh.

It wasn’t nudity,

but she trembled

like a fig falling from a tree,

crushed, before she was ripe.

The wolf clung to her.

She didn’t hurt more.

من كتاب ندى منزلجي

سرقات شاعر مغمور

دار مسعى ٢٠١٥

إلى مهمّشات مهشّمات

تلك التي اغتسلت في الشارع 

بعد أن تعذّر النهر 

خلعت ملابسها على الملأ 

لم تكن عاريةً 

كان الستار سميكاً من عزلةٍ وجنون

البشر الذين لم يلحظوها يوماً 

رأوها في ما يرى الذئب

قطعةً كبيرةً من اللحم.

لم يكن عرياً

لكنّها ارتجفت

كثمرة تينٍ تسقط عن الشجرة

مهروسةً قبل أن تنضج.

عضّها الذئب

لم تتألّم أكثر..

_____

 

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