Monday, May 18, 2015

Hamlet the Poet

This is my translation of  Nizar Qabbani's poem "Hamlet the Poet". 

Hamlet the Poet

To be, or not to be… a woman

That is the question.

To be my favourite woman,

My spoiled Turkish kitten,

My sun, oh thou art my sun.

To be a blissful hand on my forehead,

To be a star in my next life… that is the question.

To be it all, or lose it all: I am just as barbaric when in love.

To be everything a drop of dew, carried on a blossoming flower, represents.

To be my blue notebook,

My papers,

My mental ink.

To be, albeit, a word

Looking for its essence in my lips.

To be a girl blossoming in my hands.

That is the question.

Oh my beautiful nymph sent to me by the sea,

Oh my brutal sound of drumming,

Will you ever comprehend me?

I may have misinterpreted my thoughts,

I might have fallen in your love with blindfolded eyes,

I may well have blown balance with madness,

Because I only love with madness.

Therefore, take me as me, otherwise reject me.