AHMED MATAR
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The
Watchman’s Poem
I thought about writing a poem
That does not waste the watchman’s time;
That does not strain the neck of the
caliphs;
That all the news agencies
do not fear to publish;
And that is, without the slightest fear,
In the possession of every reader.
And for that, I readied my pens
And placed my papers in front of me,
And I gathered all the opinions.
Then…with all the restraint of anxiety,
I signed off the page with my signature
And left the page blank!
I reviewed the script diligently,
Then some mistakes appeared to me…
Then I rubbed off the whiteness of the page
And got rid of the signature!
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This is the fear of the
oppressed:
that they are being watched
whenever and wherever,
and should they displease their
masters with even uttered words,
their masters will put them
through hell
to keep them silent and never
uttering the obvious truth.
Such oppression has more to
with character and habit,
while power dynamics and wealth
come second.
Imagine the oppressed given the
power of the state.
What will he do with it?
His character will tell.
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The
Bull in the Yard
The bull has fled from the cattle yard, the
bull has fled,
Then the bullocks raged in the yard,
Crying about the escape of the procession’s
leader,
And on the remains were formed,
A court and an assembly,
Then a speaker said: “Judgment and Fate!”
And a speaker: “Most verily, he has disbelieved!”
And a speaker: “To the blackening fire (he
goes)!”
And some said: “Give him a last chance.
Perhaps he might return to the field.”
And in concluding the assembly,
They redistributed his harness, and jelled
his barley.
And after a year, an interesting event occurred.
The bull did not come back, but the yard followed
behind him.
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A
Tear Over the Corpse of Freedom
I do not write poetry, for poetry writes
me,
I want silence so I can live, but what I cast
forth utters me
And I cast forth nothing but sadness over
sadness over sadness,
Should I write that I am alive in my
coffin?
Should I write that I am free, while even the
letter is shackled in slavery?
Verily, a temptress has been broadcasted,
Whose name in the Arab lands is
“ruining”
And “terrorism”
And “defamation of the divine laws”
But its name…by God!
But its name is originally “freedom”.
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The
Thief
The thief left us a note
Over the straw mat,
And he brought with it:
May God curse the emir
He left nothing else to steal
…But the snore!
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Nightmare
The Nightmare is standing in front of me.
Wake up from your sleep.
You are not asleep.
Therefore, this is not a nightmare.
But you are looking at the face of the governor!
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The
Mayor’s Dog
The dog of Our Honorable Mayor
Bit me one day, and died.
Then the security guard called for me to be
executed
When the death certificate proved
That the mayor’s dog was poisoned.
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Cuss-out
The boy said to the donkey: “You idiot!”
The donkey said to the boy: “You Arab!”
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END.
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