In this poem, by Fatena Abu Mostafa, the narrator endures, “not out of strength, / but because even collapse has grown dull.” Next week, we will have Fatena’s “I Don’t Start from Zero— I Return to It.”
A Life That Doesn’t Know How to Live
By Fatena Abu Mostafa
Translated by the poet
I exist—
but leave no trace in the mirror,
like a forgotten shadow at the edge of light.
I breathe—
but the air passes through me
like a guest who never sits, never apologizes.
I hold the days
and they crumble in my hands
like stale bread in a starving mouth.
Each morning
a weary replica of the last,
as if time cycles, then sleeps again.
I endure—
not out of strength,
but because even collapse has grown dull.
Dreams?
I no longer see them.
They walk on the far side of sleep
and never look back.
The light stopped knocking at my window.
Voices became nothing but echo.
Is this a life?
Perhaps.
But it doesn’t know how to pulse.
It moves like the dead
and speaks in a voice hoarse from exhaustion.
حياةٌ بِلا ملامح
أعيشُ،
لكن لا أثرَ لي في المرآة،
كأنّي ظلُّ منسيٌّ في آخرِ الضوء.
أتنفّسُ،
لكنّ الهواءَ يمرُّ بي
كضيفٍ لا يجلسُ، لا يعتذر.
أُمسِكُ بالأيامِ
فتتفتّتُ بين يديّ
كخبزٍ يابسٍ في فمِ المجاعة.
كلُّ صباحٍ
نسخةٌ متعبةٌ من الذي قبله،
كأنّ الزمنَ دارَ ثمّ غفا.
أُقاوِمُ،
لا لأنّ فيّ قوّة،
بل لأنّ السقوطَ أيضًا صار مُملاً.
الأحلام؟
لم أعد أراها،
هي تمشي في الجهةِ الأخرى من النوم،
ولا تلتفت.
توقّفَ الضوءُ عن طرقِ نافذتي،
والأصواتُ صارتْ مجرّدَ صدى.
هذه حياةٌ؟
ربما.
لكنّها لا تعرف كيف تنبض،
تمشي كالموتى،
وتتكلّم بصوتٍ مبحوحٍ من التعب.
Fatena Abu Mostafa (@___fatena) is a translator, storyteller, and poet from Gaza, and a witness to the genocide. Everything she strives to do is amplify the voices of her people in Gaza—conveying their deepest emotions and bringing them out through her words. She believes that writing is a way to free us from our pain, and also a way to resist Israel.
Hear more from Fatena:
