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Strollers with Light-weight Clothes

Nasser Rabah

The poem has uttered its word and gone.

No celebration, no birth ritual beyond that.

No reed flute guide us to

A love salat,

No clouds exchange a eulogy with me,

Yet no trees summon me

By my graceful names,

Or lay for me my long shadow,

Here I am

Praying for a window—

Its root is my heart,

Its branch my longing.

(Translated by Saleh Razzouk and Scott Minar)

*Palestinian poet lives in Gaza