An Attempt to Reach Beirut from Beirut
Wadi Saadeh
Dedicated to Sargon Boulos
Did I have to step out today to stroke
the enemies’ rocket with my small fingers
to embark upon a road whose asphalt is melting
as I recall the workers in its mine who were dismembered
by dynamite
as I recall its blind, its ancient bohemians
who observe the earth being stripped of its skin
like an immolated pirate
Did I have to go to you
After the last of my wrists died
my feet, my hands embracing each other
like a bride and groom shot by bullets before evening
After I was stripped of all my weapons, in a valley
where the Mongols play
I go to You now, I try to go to You
with what I have left:
A jaw stitched together by bullets
erected as a target for soldiers in their free time
A head put on top of shoulders, like a cork on a fish hook resisting a whale
An arm incapable of waving
A far, far away village
that burst forth from the smoke of the rooftops
And a tree
that crows’ smiles adorn
I try to go to You
It requires for nothing but a simple trip:
A bullet’s promenade
between Tabaris and Hamra street
Yet your shores are separated by a gleaming sea of explosives
and the guards at your door kick me, so I spiral
Spiral down
Endlessly.
Beirut, 1985
* Tabaris and Hamra street are two well-known areas on either side of the “green line” that divided Beirut during the civil war.
** The poem is a response to a poem by Sargon Boulus. You can read it here.
[Translated from the Arabic by Suneela Mubayi. You can read the original Arabic here.]