Daily the sun slits its own ghost's throat Poem by Amina Saïd

and rises in blood

each beginning draws a circle
memory leads to the sea of beginnings
the pier is made of stone the tree of exile
I aspire to the horizon

on a thread of light
I move towards the place that is you
and what had been happens

a star dances on my forehead's sky
the bird within us is reborn from the soul's shore
your word is yours mine is my word

you return to the place that I am
and the poem continues to write itself

I see your face and the shadow on your face
like the poem suffering is shared
we share the grief of the tree of the too-brief
seasons and of the exile from seasons
of the smiles and the rifts of the earth
of men's misfortune of women's prayers

as we would wish the instant takes its dazzled form
time blurs over like a landscape
we live the two halves of our lives
like a journey that will perhaps remember
the names of islands birds ports
of the white wake of boats cities beings
of the cycle of arrivals and departures

and we fall in love with night
because each night celebrates a dream's wedding
and we fall in love with day
because life begins with each day

Translation: Marilyn Hacker