I'll come into the room
and I'll shelter within its ceiling and walls
I open the window for the sea to keep its bounds
for the distant coast
the houses
the trees
to keep their bounds
parting the scale lining the water and the sky
A stranded boat draws near a chasm
The turquoise plumbs the depths of its self
its self
as if it is this very moment a traveller
or a mould made by God -- still warm
I prepare the chair
its back against the wall facing the window
It won't do
I move it away
I sit on the floor
where before I had set the chair
There was the shiny wooden floor
there was the wall supporting me
and there were the eyes
I cast them away
I cast off every urge for another
but then I heard the sound of the door
I said: It's the breeze drifting towards the sea
it's trapped
Then I heard the sound of steps brushing
almost like a hissing
I said: It may be her white shoes
After six steps
seven steps
I thought the window facing the sea
was filled
Should I have remained thus
I'll open my eyes
I'll be contented
Should I have remained thus
I saw in my sleep
an animal with hooves
pass over my body
I said: I know this
it is one that keeps the pace of time
After that I saw fleeting joy
I said: I know this
After that I saw myself
as one alone sitting with his despair
facing
buttocks
You'd think they'd end the hunger
Two thighs below were anticipating their pleasure
joyfully
There was the shiny wooden floor
there was the wall supporting me
and there were the eyes
I was resolved not to perish
I was resolved to ask God who preceded me
in reproaching Him:
O God why
if you were to make me of clay
if I were to abound with breaches
would you descend on my cloud
would you leave me to stray
and consume my own blood
Even when I cast off every urge for another
you came up with a window
facing the coast and sea
and behind it the dress, the thighs and those buttocks
and asked me, as though we were enemies, what's your sign?
My sign, O God, is
pursuing the body I'm permitted to savour
receiving from it my breakfast morsel at breakfast
and my supper morsel at supper
Being thus contented
you asked me, as though we were enemies, what's your sign?
My sign is what you demand and what I don't
You asked me, as though we were enemies, what?
My sign is compliance
I'll come into the room
I'll open the window so that the distant coast
the houses
the trees
keep their bounds
parting the house of God from that of his people
parting the house of God from . . .
You commanded me to draw down the cloud
to convey it
to insert its end
within the cavity between the earth
and the soft white shoes
to be close to the window facing the sea
The thighs were yearning
the hand arranging the hair
was ready to arrange the space
There was that cloth over her body
that was its colour
But you embraced me
and said to me:
You ought to be outside the scene
Afterwards you departed
Translated from the Arabic by Marie-Thérèse Abdel-Messih from the author's collection 'Away from Beings', Al-Mada Press, Damascus, 2000