Inside Karrada: An Entrance for Lightening the Trampling

by Husam Al-Saray, Translated from Arabic by Alex Vartan Gubbins

The smells jostle one another
scent of barbecue on firewood,
women exiting this very minute,
coffee bean afraid of the smoke’s talons

الروائح تتدافع
رائحة شواء على الحطب,
نساءً خرجنَ للتوء
بُنٌ يخشى مخالب الدخان

The smells swarm
scent of pants from Afghanistan,
a face from the Hijaz,
in a bit, a Karradi man will shout at the pants and faces 

الروائح تتهافت 
رائحةُ سروال من أفغانستان,
وجهٌ من الحجاز,
كرّاديٌ سيصطخبُ بالسراويل والوجوه بعد قليل

The smells scatter
scent of body puts a flame to silence,
clothes ignite on their own,
a car’s burning tires say to the sky: Allahu Akbar 

الروائح تتطاير
رائحةُ جسدٍ يحترق صامتاً,
ملابسُ تشتعلُ وحيدةً,
إطاراتُ سيارةٍ
قالت للسماء: الله أكبر

The smells intersect
scent of Iranian sweets,
engines of American cars,
sidewalks of Turkish stone,
thresholds for Farrokhzad,
Walt Whitman, and Nazim Hikmet.

الروائح تتقاطع
رائحةُ حلوى إيرانية,
محركاتٌ لسيارات أمريكية,
أرصفةٌ بحجرٍ تركي,
عتبٌ لفروغ فرخزاد ووالت ويتمان وناظم حكمت

The eyes whisper to one another,
the elder’s eye remembers the wrinkle’s taste,
the policeman is lost in a dictionary of grief,
the boy on a ball which waits to be kicked

العيون تتهامس
عين الكهل متذاكراً طعمَ التجاعيد,
الشرطيُ تائهاً في قاموس الأسى,
الصبيُّ على كرة تنتظرُ التصويب

The eyes radiate
in a glance, an eye of a young girl rises up then falls away,
a refugee dances for crumbs,
the one in exile sees himself in Kluwaatha’s mirror;*
as a poem on the page, the fading white

العيون تتألق
عينُ صبيةٍ بنظراتٍ تعلو وتخفُتُ,
مشرَّدٌ يرقصُ للفتات,
منفىٌ يرى نفسه في مرآة كلواذي*
قصيدةً على ورقة منزوعة البياض

The eyes assemble
an eye utters its tales at the entrance of a vegetable seller
an eye for a martyr afraid of the shrouds and the caskets
for a martyr who counts the innocents’ breaths
for a martyr who throws himself to the ground beneath his photograph of the fish
for a martyr who demands the smile of kindness from the man on the electric poles 

عين لشهيد تخافُ حماسة النعوش والأكفان
لشهيدٍ تُحصي أنفاسَ الأبرياء
لشهيدٍ تلبطُ تحت صورته الأسماك
لشهيدٍ تطلبُ ابتسامته الرفقَ بالسيد عمود الكهرباء

The close listening recedes,
the people only listen to the sounds of calls for special discounts.
I only hear the sound of a woman’s high heels
the fisherman does not hear the protest of his new victim in the water
the buildings’ ears do not spell the name Zaha Hadid or Rifat Chadri with careful listening

الإصغاء يتضاءل
الناسُ تُصغي إلا لأصواتِ نداءات التنزيلات الخاصّة
أنا لا أسمعُ إلا صوتَ كَعبها العالي
السماك لا يُنصتُ لاحتجاجِ ضحيته الجديدةِ في الماء
الأبنيةُ لا تتهجّى أسماعُها اسمَ زَها حديد أو رفعت الجادرجي

The close listening commits suicide
no sound leads you into a sunrise and sunset
no tear is distinguished among the caravans of the mourners
no glory is for sirens of shadowy processions

الإصغاء ينتحر
لا صوتَ يستدلُّ إليكَ بين عُشّاقِ الشروع والغروب
لا عَبرةَ تميّزُها بين قوافلِ الحزانى
لا مَجدَ لصفّاراتِ مواكبَ مُظللة

The tongue negotiates the weak
the Walker says: A taste that the eyelids of caution worships
the Attendant in Black: To be skilled at crying is a good thing
the Dreamer: A morsel of time is so easy and addictive

اللسانُ يفاوض الوهن…
السائر: مذاقُ أن تعبُدَ أجفانَ الحذر
الحاضرُ في السواد: نكهةُ أن تُتقنَ ملكة البكاء
الحالم: مضعُ أزمانٍ تُدمنُ يُسرَ الرثاء

*Kulwatha: The old name for Karrada which appeared on inscriptions Yaqout al-Hamawi (1178 – 1225) had in The Dictionary of Countries and in other sources.

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Husam al-Saray is widely published in poetry and cultural journalism. His poem, “An Entrance for Lightening the Trampling,” appears in the collaboration with fellow Iraqi poets, A Gesture for Surviving Dreams. He has two books of his own poetry, The Desert Laughs Alone and The Seven Heavens District published by Dar al-Rafidain out of Beirut, Lebanon. He is the director of the Iraqi House of Poetry. He lives in Baghdad. 

Alex Vartan Gubbins just recently moved from the Detroit area to Armenia, has been a recipient for the Witter Bynner Translation Grant for Arabic to English. His own poems have recently been published in The Basilisk Tree and The Skinny Poetry Journal.

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Image Credit: “Enigmatic Monument” by Michael Noonan

Michael Noonan lives in Halifax (home of the Piece Hall), West Yorkshire. Has had stories published in anthologies, in the US and UK. A volume of his short stories, entitled Seven Tall Tales, has been published on Amazon; and he’s had one act plays staged, and published in book anthologies.