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.