The Byzantine Poems of Abu Firas
by 'Abd al-Wahhab al-Bayati
1
A female demon was on the shores of the Mediterranean
Crying, and I was lying down, feverish
On the sand of the shore at dawn
She was lying on the rocks awaiting the dead sailors
Extending her braid to the sea gull
Writing what I say on the sand
I embraced her on the shores of the Mediterranean
As she floated naked
The night was extinguished and the Owl hooted
Oh Soothsayer
Do not write what I say on the sand of the shore
The Master of Pain is in the cave
Waiting for a sign
2
Nay, the knight did not hail from Damascus
Nor did the lightening illuminate the face of the singer
3
I have suffered the death of the spirit
In this land where a barren thunder rumbles on its mountains
The wind hungers and
The Messiah is crucified
4
I wrote on the rocks and on the waves of the sea
Your name, my Beloved,
But the winds erased what I had written
The Diviner did not see what I beheld
Nor did the singer grasp the meaning of the poem as I wept
For he was lifeless chanting for death
And here I am in captivity
Writing your name again on the marble sepulcher
5
Here he is at dawn
Carrying two handfuls of dust from her tomb
On the shores of the Mediterranean
While the spears of light pierce his eyes
Along with the witches of the underworld and the bygone ages
He dreams of resurrecting the ashes of the mythical bird
He waters the roots of this willow tree
With his blood, so it may be reborn or die
“Jonah” shall not split open the belly of the whale
Because the sea has dried up since you took me sailing
And you said unto me do not write
What I say on the sand of the shore
6
Oh, woman, you who die giving birth
Deserting her newborn in captivity
Thou shall not be resurrected
For the Master of Pain
Has folded his two wings over his wounds and slept
7
I wrote on the rocks and on the waves of the sea
Your name, my Beloved,
But the winds erased what I had written
While here I am in captivity
Writing your name again on the marble sepulcher
8
Night on the shore
Its stars carry me on the stallions of the wind
Oh, corpse, screaming
In its grave, Oh nocturnal journey in daylight
When will you lay down your rod?
9
I have written above the wall
My final elegy
So my Princess
If you happen to pass tomorrow
By this island
You must carry a small leaf from this willow
And a feather from the mythical bird
And a drop of light
To the deserts of my forsaken homeland
Perhaps the horses of conquest, my princes, at daybreak,
Will wipe out the shame of our wound
10
A Persian wheel laments on the Euphrates
Its moaning awakened me on the Eve of the “Mi’raaj” 1
I found myself free on the waves,
Walking, a lantern in my hand
And a flower floating on the waters
In front of God’s gate
1The night of Prophet Muhammad’s ascension from Jerusalem
to the seven heavens at midnight on the 27th of Rajab.
[My Translation of ‘Abd al-Wahhab al-Bayati’s: “The Byzantine Poems of Abu Firas” in the Journal of Arabic Literature, Vol. XXXVI, No. 2. 2005. Brill Publishers, Leiden, the Netherlands.
by 'Abd al-Wahhab al-Bayati
1
A female demon was on the shores of the Mediterranean
Crying, and I was lying down, feverish
On the sand of the shore at dawn
She was lying on the rocks awaiting the dead sailors
Extending her braid to the sea gull
Writing what I say on the sand
I embraced her on the shores of the Mediterranean
As she floated naked
The night was extinguished and the Owl hooted
Oh Soothsayer
Do not write what I say on the sand of the shore
The Master of Pain is in the cave
Waiting for a sign
2
Nay, the knight did not hail from Damascus
Nor did the lightening illuminate the face of the singer
3
I have suffered the death of the spirit
In this land where a barren thunder rumbles on its mountains
The wind hungers and
The Messiah is crucified
4
I wrote on the rocks and on the waves of the sea
Your name, my Beloved,
But the winds erased what I had written
The Diviner did not see what I beheld
Nor did the singer grasp the meaning of the poem as I wept
For he was lifeless chanting for death
And here I am in captivity
Writing your name again on the marble sepulcher
5
Here he is at dawn
Carrying two handfuls of dust from her tomb
On the shores of the Mediterranean
While the spears of light pierce his eyes
Along with the witches of the underworld and the bygone ages
He dreams of resurrecting the ashes of the mythical bird
He waters the roots of this willow tree
With his blood, so it may be reborn or die
“Jonah” shall not split open the belly of the whale
Because the sea has dried up since you took me sailing
And you said unto me do not write
What I say on the sand of the shore
6
Oh, woman, you who die giving birth
Deserting her newborn in captivity
Thou shall not be resurrected
For the Master of Pain
Has folded his two wings over his wounds and slept
7
I wrote on the rocks and on the waves of the sea
Your name, my Beloved,
But the winds erased what I had written
While here I am in captivity
Writing your name again on the marble sepulcher
8
Night on the shore
Its stars carry me on the stallions of the wind
Oh, corpse, screaming
In its grave, Oh nocturnal journey in daylight
When will you lay down your rod?
9
I have written above the wall
My final elegy
So my Princess
If you happen to pass tomorrow
By this island
You must carry a small leaf from this willow
And a feather from the mythical bird
And a drop of light
To the deserts of my forsaken homeland
Perhaps the horses of conquest, my princes, at daybreak,
Will wipe out the shame of our wound
10
A Persian wheel laments on the Euphrates
Its moaning awakened me on the Eve of the “Mi’raaj” 1
I found myself free on the waves,
Walking, a lantern in my hand
And a flower floating on the waters
In front of God’s gate
1The night of Prophet Muhammad’s ascension from Jerusalem
to the seven heavens at midnight on the 27th of Rajab.
[My Translation of ‘Abd al-Wahhab al-Bayati’s: “The Byzantine Poems of Abu Firas” in the Journal of Arabic Literature, Vol. XXXVI, No. 2. 2005. Brill Publishers, Leiden, the Netherlands.
