Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dunya Mikhail

YOUR EMAIL

When you respond to my email,
all of the planets swirl about me,
even Pluto joining in.
The caterpillar announces herself as a butterfly.
The grapes ripen for me
and stretch their tendrils to my neighbor’s garden.
Ishtar comes back to life
and sings her song
for the ruined cities,
washes the dust off her face,
spins like an elegant dancer,
sends all the soldiers back home
to the arms of their loved ones,
and bandages the broken leg
of this little bird,
who was also wounded
in the land between two rivers.
She counts the holes
in her robe
and goes to sleep.
But I am still waiting for your email.
The screen reflects my tired eyes
and the hands of my watch are embracing
in the middle of your silence.

UW ELEKTRONISCHE POST

Toen jij de e-mail beantwoordde
kwamen alle planeten
zelfs Pluto sloot zich aan
een zijderups verklaarde zichzelf tot vlinder
mijn druiven rijpten
en strekten zich uit tot de tuin van de buren
Ishtar kwam tot leven
en zong een lied
voor kapotte steden
waste het stof van haar gezicht
draaide rond als een bevallige danseres
zond de soldaten naar huis
naar de armen van hun geliefden
legde een verband om de pootjes
van deze gewonde vogel
in Mesopotamië
Ishtar telde de gaten
in haar jurk
en ging slapen
maar ik wachtte op een e-mail
het scherm spiegelde kwijnende ogen
de wijzers van de klok omarmden elkaar
halverwege jouw zwijgen

بريدك الألكتروني

عندما تردّ على الأيميل
كل الكواكب تأتي اليّ
حتى بلوتو يلتحق.
دودة القز تعلن نفسها فراشة.
العنب ينضج لي
ويتمدد الى حديقة الجيران.
عشتار تعود الى الحياة
وتغني أغنية
للمدن الخربة
تغسل الغبار عن وجهها
تستدير مثل راقصة رشيقة
تبعث الجنود كلهم الى البيت
الى أحضان المحبين
تضع ضمادةً حول القدم الصغيرة
لهذا العصفور
المجروح أيضا  مابين النهرين 
عشتار تعدّ الثقوب
في ثوبها
و تذهب للنوم.
لكني مازلت بانتظار الأيميل.
الشاشة تعكس عيوناً ذابلة
وعقارب ساعتي تتعانق
في منتصف صمتك.
Close

YOUR EMAIL

When you respond to my email,
all of the planets swirl about me,
even Pluto joining in.
The caterpillar announces herself as a butterfly.
The grapes ripen for me
and stretch their tendrils to my neighbor’s garden.
Ishtar comes back to life
and sings her song
for the ruined cities,
washes the dust off her face,
spins like an elegant dancer,
sends all the soldiers back home
to the arms of their loved ones,
and bandages the broken leg
of this little bird,
who was also wounded
in the land between two rivers.
She counts the holes
in her robe
and goes to sleep.
But I am still waiting for your email.
The screen reflects my tired eyes
and the hands of my watch are embracing
in the middle of your silence.

YOUR EMAIL

When you respond to my email,
all of the planets swirl about me,
even Pluto joining in.
The caterpillar announces herself as a butterfly.
The grapes ripen for me
and stretch their tendrils to my neighbor’s garden.
Ishtar comes back to life
and sings her song
for the ruined cities,
washes the dust off her face,
spins like an elegant dancer,
sends all the soldiers back home
to the arms of their loved ones,
and bandages the broken leg
of this little bird,
who was also wounded
in the land between two rivers.
She counts the holes
in her robe
and goes to sleep.
But I am still waiting for your email.
The screen reflects my tired eyes
and the hands of my watch are embracing
in the middle of your silence.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère