Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Joshua WeinerAn Exchange with Daniel Tiffany/Fall 2020
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue Kirsty Gunn re-arranges the world John McAuliffe reads Seamus Heaney's letters and translations Chris Price's 'Songs of Allegiance' David Herman on Aharon Appelfeld Victoria Moul on Christopher Childers compendious Greek and Latin Lyric Book Philip Terry again answers the question, 'What is Poetry'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 243, Volume 45 Number 1, September - October 2018.

Poems (translated by Marilyn Hacker) Yasser Khanjer and Fadwa Suleiman
Translated from the Arabic (Syria) by Marilyn Hacker

A Refugee

YASSER KHANJER

One day when I was little, my mother took me by the hand and said
We’re going to fill a jug with water at the Spring of the Reeds.
And when we walk across those ruins
Hold on to the folds of my dress
And keep your eyes on the ground, son, to stay in step with me,
Follow the chime of my ankle-bracelets to find your way
If I’m gone for long, don’t wait for me.
But remember – there is a sun holding its hand out to you gently
If your heart follows its path from that light
The path will lead towards dawn. Don’t wait for me
You’ll follow morning’s chime on sleep under your eyelids
And the scent of roses on the bed of your stumbling childhood

                                                 *

Since I was little
A thread, unravelled from my mother’s dress
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image