Psalm 8

Psalm 8

Mahmoud Darwish Translated by: Denys Johnson-Davies/The Music of Human Flesh. O country whose names are known by mood, By history's whips, By history's prisons, By history's places of exile. O you who have fallen into captivity in every age, Why do you determine your from with such a venture? Why announce yourself As the foetus of the world? And why are you beautiful to the point of suicide? And more than that: Why do you not announce your disavowal of me That I may abstain from death? O country cruel as drowsiness, Tell me just the once: Our love is over, Tat I may be capable of death and departure. I envy the winds that suddenly turn away From the ashes of my forefathers. I envy the thoughts concealed in the memory of the martyrs, And I envy your sky hidden in children's eyes. And yet I do not envy myself. You spread along my body like sweat, You spread into my body like lust. Like invaders you occupy my memory, And like light you occupy my brain. Die that I may mourn you, Or be my wife that I may known betrayal Just the once. Zajel / An-Najah National University