Ashraf Fayadh: ‘A Melancholy Made of Dough’
So your soul was mixed:
homogenized, fermented, kneaded, baked
and sold at stores that violated health codes,
forged—and used for illegal purposes,
voted on— and eaten
like a loaf.
So your soul was mixed:
homogenized, fermented, kneaded, baked
and sold at stores that violated health codes,
forged—and used for illegal purposes,
voted on— and eaten
like a loaf.
I am Hell’s experiment on the planet Earth.
The Hell that has been prepared for refugees.
Four short poems: “Equal opportunities,” “An aphorism,” “Conclusions,” and “Logic.”
“Succumb to sleep.
because the time has come for you to melt, and dissolve,
to take the shape agreed for the alienation into which you’re have been poured.”
“As for writers, there′s nothing they can do about the terrible situation in Yemen. They live under bombing and mortar fire, the same as everyone else, with the same shortage of basic necessities like water, food and electricity.”
“This text confronts the translator with extraordinary challenges.”
“In this regard, and even though five of his novels have been translated into French, he is probably one of the most difficult writers to translate, especially into English. Yet, I can hardly think of any Arab novelist who’s worth the effort and the challenge more than this astonishing writer.”
“State publishing, as with every other state sector, entered a serious crisis.”
“alas you the clerics who chant
you who are well considered
can’t you see that our religion is up for sale”