قصائد سهيل عيساوي, ترجمة الاديبة اسيا السخيري- تونس

[ريمه الخاني]

الى الانكليزيه وارحب بالتصويبات:


The sun dips
Souheyl 'Ïssawi
Sad is my story
Such birds of June
Touching is my myth
As the heroism of Jeanne D'arc
Free, I walked my way
Until greens Challenge
And I knew my end
Ruin ... ... evanescence annihilation and extinction
All that remained of me
Poems and words that announce
The death of their creator
In questioning the pencils and newspapers
On the fate of a knight who has never been shot down
He never kissed a hand sign of allegiance
Is it going to be resurrected?
To the names of the Koran and the Gospel
Is it that you hate it or you the desires Azraël
Certainly certainly ...
The ink had not dried
And his hands did point exhausted
And he never sold a single sheet.
If possible m'était Baghdad
If I was possible to be the sun of civilization
Baghdad
If I was possible to become an ear of wheat rich
If I could be a pain
In the mouths of Iraqi children
If I could kill this dastardly hunger
Would to God that I am a sip of medicine
To reduce (soften) the suffering of a wounded
Would to God that I can do away with a wild grief
Coated in the eyes of a mother affected (grieving)
Who in the bombing of El refuge Amiria
In his two dear children was deprived
If I were a bird
With my wings extended
I covered the sun of August
And I protected a laborer persevering
Who rebuilds Iraq
Would to God that I can awaken consciences all
Who stood quietly in sleep
If I could decide blackened hearts
To replace them with others who are green
If possible I was spat
For the faces of all brokers machinateurs
All those who have changed their Kibblah
And all those who have performed their ritual ablutions
With our bloods
Souheyl 'Ïssawi