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.