Sunday, May 22, 2022 | Shawwal 20, 1443 H
clear sky
33°C / 33°C

O mountains of Oman

The following are translations of poems by the Omani poet Hilal Al Hajri (1968-) from his first collection titled: “Night Is Mine”, (Muscat: 2006):

Glory to Music

Glory to music!

Whenever a stranger or drunkard cries

Glory to music

Whenever a poet or lover groans

I often see myself in cafes

With gloomy clouds and poignant music.


In the café corner

Peeking at me a pseudo-cultured damsel

Behind her huge glasses.

I hate arty women

As I hate critics and narks.

Yet whenever a breast trembles

Or a knee bends

Saliva startles me between my lips

Like children and the aged.

Where are these round poems taking me

And those old fashioned sorrows?

I’m the deposed king

The armless poet

I often see myself in cafes

With gloomy clouds or poignant music.

Leave I Shall Not

Burn like an inferno

O earth!

I shall but embrace history more

And kiss the regiments of the first conquest!

O mountains of Oman

Till when will you crucify

This paleness on my forehead?

O desert of Oman

Till when will you fill my pockets with sand

And cast agony

In my eyes?

Will you force me to leave?


Leave I shall not!

More melancholy, O Mother,

I will not leave till

My bones flow upon your mountains

One after another!


From the journey’s first moment

I used to imagine

With child-like innocence

That planes’ bathrooms

Were open to the world!

O travelers

Is there a moment

More delicious and delectable

Than ... upon this chaos

From a height of 40, 000 feet?!

Muscat’s Night

Nothing remains from this night


But dogs barking and writhing

From hunger or pain

A monk warning about Doomsday

A drunkard vomiting in a toilet


Creaking from lust

And the rest of it

A tiny moon in the sky

And a poet on earth

Everyone betting on the choking of

The other.

arrow up
home icon