Monday, May 23, 2022 | Shawwal 21, 1443 H
clear sky
33°C / 33°C

The Forbidden Fruit -

The following are translations of poems by the Omani poet Hilal Al Hajri (1968-) from his collection titled: “Like a Mountain Bird Watching the Collapse of the World”, (Beirut 2013):

In the Pirate’s Grip

The pirate has tightened his grip

On the world's map.

Very shortly

Like dough

All the small states will flow

Between his fingers.

He won't devour them as we think

But dip his hand in the toilet

And go away

Searching for his dreams' treasures!


Clouds with yields

Nigh and easy

Rains more merciful than mother to child

Breasts like clusters of grape

Wine like saliva of a bosomy girl

Liberty more eloquent than prophets

That's Granada.

Lady Godiva*

Do you know Godiva?

Delight of mind and heart

Daughter of honor and liberty

Like mellowed wine in grace

Like pure water in nudity

Did you ever see a beauty

Undress malady?

Abandoned Lover

Calling me from afar

Why my sweetheart?

My tears I relied on

Betray me too much these days

I know you see yourself

In my tearful eyes

But why all these vast deserts?


I'm not bold enough to cross them

With feet heavy in mud

My charming love

Will you change the rule of the world

And stretch to me your arms?!

A Passing Woman

I know you're a fleeting shade

I'm a wandering cloud

But I'll cling to your foxy phantom

Thrust into it my nails

Till death!

Forbidden Fruit

Your voluptuous, wavy curves

I won't just relish from afar

This forbidden fruit

I'll swoop down on

Like an eagle

In my dreams

I will leave nothing for my unknown future

I'll devour it

Like a man stricken by famine!

In her Heart

Put your hand below your left breast

You'll find there a warm secret

Drowning the world with love and relief.

Ask it to be gentle with me

I who want to be its air and blood

I want to be anything

In it!

Her Breast

Only the chandelier

As she squeezes the skies

Can match your breast

In its glory and vanity!

A Prayer

O my Lord

Guide me to the fountainhead

Of your sacred sadness.

I'd like to dip into it all at once.

I've grown weary from it

Dripping in my heart

Tear after tear!


*Legend has it that Lady Godiva, an Anglo-Saxon noblewoman, rode naked through the streets of Coventry after her husband refused to remit the heavy tolls imposed on his tenants. Her husband said he would if she rode naked on a horse. She stripped naked, covering herself only with her long hair (the translator).

arrow up
home icon