Treasure Island

Badr Shakir al-Sayyab

(1926-1964)

The Journey Of Job -2


Through the snow, the sky winnows it to the earth.
Through the dense fog and rain,
I see your eyes sparkling ceaselessly everywhere I go.
Similar to a glimmering star is about to vanish at a daybreak.
On calmness, your eyes shed tears drop after drop.
As if they display eyelashes look like the twigs of tree.
On any winter's morn, they wash themselves by the dew.
Through the heavy smoke, the big chimneys puff it to the sky.
Still spit out the blood of Cain over the trees and ways.
Mixture of blood and combustible firewood, it pushes everywhere.
I hear ((Kylan) shouts to you through the darkness!
Solitary he would sleep accustomed the gloomy and devastated place.
At silent moment, I heard how the fate came to knock our door.
With each knock, my ribs trembled and my eyes were bathed on tears.
The traveler made his glance to leave and went away.
A startled kiss between my mouth and my heart displays.
As if someone walked on desert lost his way.
It is similar to the wrecked bird; the rainstorm divests its nest.
Nor the cheek of (Kylan) could embrace her or even his forehead.
(Kylan) is her lover whose face is unseen in the airport yet.
With eyeshot, Eqbal comes there to say farewell lifted her hand.
Eqbal! There is on my blood the duplicate picture of your awaiting face.
The blood, which flows on my hand, is pining to shake your hands.
I wish I knew! Is it still acceptable to you?
I wish I knew! Is it still agreeable?
I wish I knew! Is it still desirable?
Is it possible to touch your hand once more through the fallen down snow?
Is it possible to shake your hand once more though the drops of rain and dense fog?
Let me saw! Let me saw!

Translated by: Mohammad Mahmud Ahmad

Submitted: Friday, September 13, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 13, 2013
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