This is the second part of selected excerpts from Faraj Bayraqdar`s "Mirrors of Absence," written in Saydnaya Prison, Syria, between 1997-2000. The first part was published last week.
Mirrors of Absence
40
It is neither bias
nor bragging
there is no graveyard
in this world or the next
bigger than this one:
what I call
my country
41
What happens
when they open the gates?
What happens
when they shut them?
as if a heavy glass sky
is ripped from its seventh heaven
Its fall grinds ears
nothing but the bubbles of silence
and the rattle
in times throat
42
If I don`t even own myself
Why shouldn`t I bank
on the impossible?
43
In a year
or two
ten or twenty
freedom will put on
her miniskirt
and receive me
Yes!
her colourful miniskirt
I don`t like to see her
In mourning
46
In the middle of forgetfulness
or at its end
my memory eloped towards her
She who initially uttered an absolute sky
and two obscure violets
a mirage-bleeding desert
but silence after silence
and breath after breath
she uttered my body
and a stormy sea
cried, rained and screamed
from the depths:
Come!
47
Blessed are you woman
I have no wings
how shall I draw space?
I have no space
what would I do with wings?
53
My body was filled with
swallows and larks
bee-eaters and herons
sand grouses, sea gulls and eagles
but whenever I passed a walkway
a bird would fall off
here I am on the last shore
without a single bird.
54
A single bird is enough
To keep the sky
From falling down.
57
Her mouth smiles
her eyes teary
she calls out
in the photograph:
Daddy!
68
After a gasp or two
after a cup full of nostalgia
spilling and broken
After a god
a dog
or a tyrant
my mother will fold
fourteen skies
after my absence
74
Black mirrors
cannot see
White mirrors
cannot remember
Faded mirrors
the colour of neutrality
O woman of rain
I wish my heart were made of basalt!
78
Scientists and priests
historians and philosophers
fortune-tellers, leaders and sages
religions,
parties,
and armies
but no truth
90
Mirrors cry
wipe their tears
and cover me O woman
with what is not absence
92
Four cigarettes
I wish I could smoke them all at once:
birth
love
freedom
and death
O good jailer:
Come let us smoke!
and continue our conversation
93
A little while ago
I squeezed an orange
like my heart
I added some burning alcohol
like the past
I took a deep breath
I lit a long and slender cigarette
whose smoke is like the memory
of a woman I once knew
then I smiled
to surprise myself
Good evening O life
Good evening friends
Good evening to myself
I invited you tonight
to inaugurate the fifteenth year
Since my imprisonment
Who amongst you
will cut this ribbon
of barbed wire?
Do not blame me for my sadness!
I am not sad for myself
I am just in pain
So many are born now
I wish to drink to their health
and cry
In nostalgia
99
I entered prison
fully prepared
for death
Here I am
after - I don`t know how many years-
I arrange my dreams to leave
fully prepared for life
100
The birds
which I release
when I shut my eyes
The gazelles
which I follow to the spring
when I shut my eyes
The slopes
whose echoes I wipe
when I shut my eyes
the handkerchiefs
I embroider with stars
when I shut my eyes
The roses
I pluck from my heart
when I shut my eyes
are all:
Good Morning Freedom!
Saydnaya Prison 1997-2000
Translation by Sinan Antoon