To Stuart, Valentina Colonna.

I realize that you
were the only head of the family.
I realize it by the voice
still coming out of me when
as a joke I invent words
I have never told you.

We are too busy with our
life on the edge to smell the air
as you did, raising your head
and squeezing your nose to seize
what we do not feel, what we do not
see. You noticed,
visionary beyond the balcony.
We touched you to calm down
the look that the others
say you did not have.

In silence you waited
for the last heat from the floor.
Then you waited for me to close the door
to leave you one white clump
under the bed.
And the entire house was voiceless.


Do not bring flowers to my funeral.
Memories detest the darkness.
When you turn away, the roses
you cut for me
take the colour of the shadow.
Blindly they cover the ossuary for the poor,
in that corner full of sacks with no space
to nail anything to the wall.

There is no more room in the grave
where my dress descends at dusk.
I sewed mine in advance
and its tail dusts the floor with lace,
in case a halo should stay
or the wall loses its saltiness.

Do not bring flowers to my grave.

I have collected many on my train today.
This is the time.
It was enough to pass,
even as my feet were bound with roots.

Auteur : aboulabasstranslations

We provide top quality #Interpreting & #Translation Services +221775237850

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