The Party

Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen




The letter dropped

And the age walking on one crutch was lost,

Dropped and lost,

Lost and slipped

Slipped and annihilated,

Annihilated and got electrified,

Got electrified and fused,

Fused and disappeared,

Disappeared, thus, the doors broke.

I entered on the horse of disappointment

Holding my sword,

Unsheathing my torture and words,

My right and light.

And I cried

But the letter broke tonight

I got for it a funeral

I invited nobody but myself

When myself attended, I closely examined it

I got sure that it did not hold

A prohibited thing,

Then, I shed on it the light of my blood.

Something with the majesty of the letter appears

Together with the images of the naked childhood,

And the toothless Euphrates,

And the infinite disappointments,

Then, I cried: Oh, the letter dropped

O crazy people!

Attention! The party is violent

(And you do not lack lies)

The party will start with lies.

(Beware not to enter through the dancersí door)

Then, the tears start to drop

And I will explain to you a thousand

Of my tragic scenes,

As well as of my fatherís, grandfatherís,

And sonís


Whoever takes part in this crazy party

Will be terminated!



The letter dropped

Hence, I will read to you my soul

On the anvil of the poem,

And the poem on the anvil of death,

And death on the anvil of the dawn,

And the dawn on the anvil of the dreams

Those are choked by water,

Water, water and water.

I will read to you my outside nakedness

To drop to my inside nakedness.

I dream that you will die

To get rid of your shallowness,

You... tough shoeless!

O the poets who got themselves lost

But they did not get lost!


The sound of music comes roaring, roaring

To cover the sound of letterís fall.



O the naked!

The letterís fall is glorious.



Death stands at the door

And we missed our suns in searching for bread

But we did not find salt.

We searched for salt

But we did not find the memory.

We searched for the memory

But we did not find clothes.

We searched for clothes

But we did not find the shirt.

We searched for the shirt

But we did not find the turban.

The letter dropped.



I found the turban was stained with blood,

Perfumed with dream.

And in the middle of it

The sun of mirrors brightened.. brightened

So you rejoiced

I said to you rejoice

O the naked, rejoice

The letter is dropping Ö dropping

We get lost in the middle

Of our black nakedness

That filled, for us, everything.


( T p)

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