Koleib's Murder (The Ten Commandments)
Koleib looked around and sighed, shed a tear and cried, seeing a slave he said: O good servant, before you take my life away, take me to that stone near the stream; I want to write my will to my brother Prince Salem El-Zir entrusting him my children, my flesh and blood…
The slave took him where he would. With the spear buried in his back, he steeped his finger in the blood dripping off his side, on the stone he started writing...
Make no conciliation!
Would they grant you gold.
Should I gouge your eyes,
Fix two jewels in their place
Could you still behold?
Such are not to purchase:
You and your brother, your memories of childhood,
Your sudden feeling of manhood,
Longing suppressed by bashfulness, when him you hold.
Silence…smiling at your mother's scold
As if...children you still were!
Your eternal reassurance:
That two swords are your sword
And two voices
That if you die:
The house has a master
The child a father
Could my blood turn water in your eyes?
Will you forget my gory dress…
Wear a brocaded one with my blood underneath?
Such is war!
The heart it may burden
But the Arabs' shame is behind
Make no conciliation…
Nor seek to hide!
Make no conciliation!
Not even for blood!
Make no conciliation!
Would they say a head for a head!
Is one head like another?
Is the stranger's heart like that of your brother?
Has he your brother's eyes?
A hand whose sword was yours…
Could it even that whose sword bereaved you?
They would say:
We've come to you to spare blood
We've come, O prince be our judge
They would say:
Now we're cousins.
Tell them: they trod on their cousinship to those they killed
And plant the sword in the desert heart
Till echo repeats
That for you I was
A knight,
A brother,
A father,
And a king!
Make no conciliation…
If you're denied sleep by screams of remorse
And retain…
If women in black with their children bereft of smile your heart soften
That "El-Ymama" your niece
Is a flower, in her youth,
Garbed in a mourning dress
She used to run down the palace stairs
On my return,
And on my coming down hold my legs…
I lift her _smiling_ on the back of the horse.
Here she is…silent
The hand of treason
Has deprived her of hearing her father's words,
Wearing the new dress,
Having one day a brother,
Or in her wedding a smiling father
To whom she returns when the husband her vexes,
And to whose arms, his grandchildren race
To get their presents,
Pull the turban,
And with his beard mess.
Make no conciliation!
This dove has committed no guilt
To suddenly see the burning nest
While she on the ashes rests!
Make no conciliation!
Would they crown you a prince
How could you step on the body of your father's son?
And on faces of fake joy…
Become a king?
How could you look in the hands you shake
Without noticing in every hand the blood?
A sword that caught me from behind …
Will catch you from a thousand side
For blood has now become a badge of honor.
Make no conciliation!
Would they crown you a prince
Your throne is a sword,
And false is your sword
Shouldn't you, with its wisp, weigh moments of honor
And in luxury found rest.
Make no conciliation!
Should those who waver in fight say
"…we can not bear swords unsheathe…"
When truth fills your heart:
Fire erupts when you breathe
And the voice of treason gets dumb
Make no conciliation
No matter how much peace they speak
How could the lungs breathe in the foul breeze?
How could you look a woman in the eye…
If you know you can not her shield?
How could you, in love, be her knight?
Or for a newborn sleeping await the light?
How could you dream or sing of future for a boy
Who at your hands with a heavy heart grows?
Make no conciliation
Nor share with your murderers food
And with blood,
Your heart water,
The holy soil,
And your lying successors
Till resurrection day!
Make no conciliation!
Should the tribe beseech you
By El-Galila's sadness
To be a foxy fellow
And show acceptance.
They would say:
Here you seek a long vengeance;
Now take what you can:
A little right…
In these few years
The revenge is not only yours,
But the coming generations' too
And tomorrow…
Someone will be born to put on the full armor,
And a sweeping fire,
to take vengeance
And beget truth
From the impossible heart
Make no conciliation
Should they say it is only a device
Such is revenge
Its flame in the heart fades away
As time passes by
And with its five fingers remains sealed the hand of disgrace
Upon disgraced brows!
Make no conciliation, though stars may warn you
And fortunetellers make you a prophecy
I would have forgiven had I died…
Perplexed between right and wrong.
I was not an invader,
Never sneaked near their camps,
Nor hovered around the borders,
Never approached their vineyards
Their garden I never trod.
My murderer did not shout: "watch out"!
He walked with me…
Then shook my hand…
Then hoofed a little
But in the bushes he took a hide!
Then all of a sudden:
A shudder riddled me between two ribs…
My heart shivered _as a bubble_ and slacked!
I braced myself up, till on my arms I weighed
I saw my ignoble cousin
With a sordid face, maliciously satisfied
I had no spear
Nor an old weapon,
Nothing but my rage complaining of thirst.
Make no conciliation…
Till being to its cycle returns:
Till…
To their orbits, return the stars
To their twitter…the birds
To their grains…the sands
And the murdered to his waiting child
All was ruined in a fleeting second:
Youth, family joy, horse neigh, guests hosting, the heart murmur when a bud in the garden withers, prayer for seasonal rain
The heart dodge when the death omen hovers over the savage wild
All was ruined in a flagrant slide
And that who murdered me is not a god
To have me killed by his will
Not grander than me…to take my life with his sword
Nor smarter…to finish me off with his sly fraud
Make no conciliation
For it's only an accord between two rivals…
Unbroken by the honor of the heart
And that who murdered me is a mere thief
He stole the land before my eyes
As silence broke into a mocking laugh!
Make no conciliation
Though all sheikhs against your sword may stand
With shadow men whose souls are cracked
Those who love sopped bread and meat
And surmounting slaves
Those whose turbans dangled on their eyes,
And their Arab swords have forgot chivalry years
Make no conciliation
This desire shall be odd
In this age you're the sole knight
Others…are freaks!
Make no conciliation
Make no conciliation
November 1976
2 comments:
hi,
my name is giuseppe and I'm italian.
I translated La Tusalih into italian for my university.
your translation is very good!!
in italian I can not keep the "qafia" of the original qasida.
very good work.
ciaoo
giuseppe
thank you
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