Amal Dunqul "A Special Interview with Noah's Son"

Noah’s flood is coming nearer!

The city is sinking little…by little

Birds flee

And water rises

On the steps of houses

Shops

The post office

Banks

Statues (of our immortal ancestors)

Temples

Wheat sacks

Maternity hospitals

The prison gate

The State House

The corridors of fortified barracks.

Birds are leaving

Slowly…

Slowly…

Geese on the water float

Furniture floats…

And a child’s toy…

And a gasp of a sad mother

Young women on the roofs waver!

Noah’s flood is coming nearer

Here are “the wise men” fleeing to the ship

The singers, the prince’s horseman, the usurers, the judge of judges

(And his Mamlouk…),

The sword bearer, the temple dancer

(She rejoiced when she picked up her wig…)

Tax collectors, weapons importers,

The princess’s lover in his radiant effeminate manner

Noah’s flood is coming nearer.

Here are the cowards fleeing to the ship

While I was…

The city’s youth were

Bridling the unruly horse of the water

Carrying water on both shoulders.

And racing time

They were building stone dams for themselves

Hoping to save the bosom of youth and civilization

Hoping to save…the homeland!

…the master of the Ark shouted at me—before the advent

Of quietude:

“Escape from a country…where the spirit is no longer!”

I said:

Blessed are those who ate its bread…

In days of prosperity

And turned their back on it

In times of adversity!

Glory to us, we who have stood

(God has obliterated our names!)

to defy destruction…

And seek refuge in a mountain that doesn’t die

(They call it ‘the people’!)

We refuse to flee…

And we refuse to wander!

My heart, knit with injuries

Cursed by commentaries

Is resting, now, on the city’s remains

A blossom bland

Still…

After it said “No” to the ship …

and loved the homeland