In Me There Is a Thirst

(Inspired by the artist Rāniā ‘Aql, whose works explore the concept of thirst)

In me there is a thirst,
Which turned even the most beautiful hopes into a painful mirage,
I almost lost my sight
And foresight, too
And I shall not see the path of my return!

I watched the painting with the pain
Of one whose body knew the ache of persistent struggle
And saw how its shadow engulfed the soil of his compassion’s homeland
Turned it into a desert replete with phantom mirages and stone,
Replete with cracks.

I listened, with the silence of one exhausted by thirst,
To the weeping of the cracks that echoed my homeland’s lament:
In me there has been a thirst for years,
So I have not savored the taste of rain, nor have my clouds ever moistened the air,
No droplet has ever fallen to wet my palate.

I watched the painting for a long time and wished only that I was able to bend down a little further,
To be better able to gather the stones and move them out of my path
To erect with them a house that would be the homeland,
And call from the depths of my head:
“Oh, Lord of rain, shower upon us at last!”



( من وحي أعمال الفنانة رانية عقل التي تتحدث عن " العطش " )


ابراهيم مالك


بـي عـَطـَش ٌ ،
أحـال َ أجـْمـَل َ الـْمـُنـى إلـى سـَراب ٍ مـوجـِع ٍ،
فـَكـِدْت ُ أفـْقـِد ُ الـْبـَصـَر ْ
وَأفـْقـِد ُ الـْبـَصـيـرة ْ
فـَلا أرى مَسـار َ دَرْب ِ عـَوْدَتـي !

تـَأمـَّلــْت ُ الـْلـَّوْحـة في وَجـَع ِ
مـَن ْ عـرِف َ جـسـَدُه ُ وَجـَع َ تـَكـَسـُّر ِ الـنـِّصـال ِ
فـرأى ظـِلـَّه ُ راح َ يـَذْرُع ُ ثـَرى وَطـَن ٍ عـَشـِقـْتـُه ُ
صـَيـَّروه ُ صـَحـْراء َ كـَثـيـرَة َ الـسـَّراب والـْحـَصـى
كـَثـيـرَة َ الـشـُّقـوق ْ .

أصـْغـيـْت ُ، فـي صـَمـْت ِ مـن ْ هـَدَّه ُ الـْعـَطـَش ْ ،
إلـى نـَحـيـب ِ الـشـُُّقـوق ِ تـَبـُث ُّ شـَكـْوى وَطـَنـي :
بـي عـَطـَش ٌ مـِن ْ سـِنـيـن ْ،
فـَلـَم ْ أذُق ْ طـَعـْم َ مـطـَر ٍ وَلـَم ْ تـَنـْزِف ْ غــُيــومـي نـَدى ً
وَلـَم ْ يـَهـْم ِ رَذاذ ٌ يـُبـِل ُّ ريـقـي .

تـأمـَّلـْت ُ الـلـَّوْحـَة َ طـَويـلا ً ، فـَوَدَدْت ُ لـَو ْ أنـحـَنـي قلـيلا ً ،
لأحـْسـِن َ لـَمـْلـَمـَة َ الـْحـَصـى فـَأزيـلـُهـا مـِن ْ مـَسـاري
وأشـيـِّد ُ بـِهـا بـَيـْتـا ً هـُو َ وَطـَن ٌ ،
وأنـْده ُ مـِن ْ قـَحـْف ِ رأسـي :
" رَب ِّ الـْغـيـث غـيـثـيـنـا " !