Fady Joudah & Mahmoud Darwish
MIS/TRANSLATION
 

Sonnet [ III ]

 

Of night, I love the beginning, when you two come together
hand in hand, and bit by bit embrace me one section at a time
Then in flight take me, higher. Stay my friends and don’t hurry
and sleep on each of my sides like the wings of a tired swallow

Both of your silks are hot. But the flute should be patient
and polish a sonnet, when you two descend on me as a lovely mystery
Like a meaning on the verge of nakedness, incapable of arrival
and of long waiting in front of speech, it chooses me as a threshold

Of poetry, I love the spontaneity of prose and the hidden image
without a moon for rhetoric: when you walk barefoot rhyme abandons
copulating speech, and meter breaks in the climax of experience

A bit of night near you is enough for me to get out of my Babylon
and into my essence ― my other. No garden for me within me
and all of you is you. And what overflows from you is “I” the free and kind


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