A Poem by Olivia Elias from Day 38, Nov. 14

On November 13, we shared a special section on Palestinian poet Olivia Elias, who writes in French, which included video readings by Elias and her translators; a conversation between Elias and her translators, Sarah Riggs and Jérémy Victor Robert; and an excerpt of Elias’s “Your Name, Palestine,” translated by Sarah Riggs and Jérémy Victor Robert, with a drawing by Basil King.

The next day, Nov. 14, Elias wrote this poem of reflection & response; it is translated here by Jérémy Victor Robert.

Day 38, Nov. 14, I Didn’t See the Fall This Year

By Olivia Elias

Translated by Jérémy Victor Robert

I didn’t see the fall this year
I didn’t see the acacia blaze
the cranes fly away
.
only bombs & more bombs on Gaza in ruins
..

NO WATER    NO FOOD    NO FUEL & ELECTRICITY

for the people of the Ghetto
not even medicine    absolute Deprivation
so have decided the Conquerors with the unfailing
support of their powerful Allies
.
in the first place  the big Chief of America who
frantically shakes his veto-rattle
.

.
I didn’t see a single thing this fall
no blazing acacia   no flying cranes

only a deluge of bombs dropped on the
deadly mousetrap

overflowing   in the middle of this madness
the big living river with multiple arms

of the children of Gaza

.
.
your small bodies     which didn’t get the time to grow up
your dreams    which didn’t get the time to blossom

your small bodies    flowers of blood
your dreams    blown away with the wind
.
.
I didn’t notice the fall this year
I didn’t say goodbye to the golden leaves
to the cranes

 

I must say goodbye      goodbye to every single thing

 
like they do over there   each night
before going to sleep    parents & children
hugging each other & saying goodbye

perhaps we’ll be blessed to meet again
in another life   a life that won’t be
ghetto & bantustans    jails  bombs  & extinction

A poet of the Palestinian diaspora, Olivia Elias writes in French. Born in Haifa in 1944, she lived until the age of sixteen in Lebanon, where her family took refuge in 1948, then in Montreal, before moving to France. Her work, translated into English, Arabic, Spanish, Italian, and Japanese, has appeared in anthologies and numerous journals. In 2022, she published her first book in English translation, Chaos, Crossing (World Poetry), translated by Kareem James Abu-Zeid.

Jérémy Victor Robert is a translator between English and French who works and lives in his native Réunion Island.

Cover photo .