I'm no longer frightened
Nor since the thieves died yesterday
Neither since people would be silent
When their sight get widened
But because the palm would stay at her place.

Life would be bearable
If Sunday's meetings end up
After the fall of constructuralism
Because the author's death
Would get the morning calls disappear.

The angry lady as well
Was afraid of the electronic girl
Whom Al Pa chino properly drew
She infected the back of the head by a virus
To get it away from poetry
And other stuff.

She
Did not read the book
Properly
Otherwise she would have learned that the poet
Makes thousands of sheets
Only in order to fly.

"The frightened are a hundred"
Said the poet
I'm the first of all
I told him
But I don't need to see them getting calm
And I don't bet on America's defeat
Or on cycling at "Al Qanater"
And not sure about weather to get cooler
Or even if Salim Sahhab
Would be in the Opera next Thursday.

I don't know
Why I write poetry
And why there are too many people
And Why knowledge does not come to us
As a capsule in mind when we are born
And why I was frightened to notice I was a woman
While the hall was empty
And Kafafis did not visit Alexandria Library
Although the old woman was waiting everyday
At the cafe shop.

I'm sure but about
He is lying beside her now
After he hanged up the phone
For some reasons

First, the northern coast
Is still in the north.

Secondly
The virus has taken its route
Inside the brain
And the audience have clapped.

Thirdly
................
Fourthly
.................
.................
And Kafafis had died a long time ago
So the good girl would not be able
To cook the morning coffee.

Despite all
I'm no longer frightened
Because the left palm is still there
In the right.
 

***********
© Translated byTurki Amer