New Poetry in Translation: ‘Who Am I?’
“Who am I? / I am not myself.”
“Who am I? / I am not myself.”
“They walk beneath the sky. As their arms extend. As they grow new arms. As they carry their children.’
“Are you tired of walking / My son, are you tired?”
“No electricity tonight. / Boredom is about to kill me.”
Refaat Al Areer had set the scene, declaring, “If I must die,” and Alaa Al Qatarawi’s sorrow metamorphosed into a butterfly that perseveres. She writes, “If I die, my butterfly does not die.”
The people named in this poem are the writers, painters, and musicians martyred in the genocide. They are only a few of the many artists who were martyred in the past two years of war against Gaza.
“Hold me before the game ends. / Like everything else, / grief needs time / to become a language.”
“The temperature dipped a little / but the country’s still burning—”
“I survived—came out of yesterday / alive, carried out on the shoulders / of the wind.”