It will not rain today
and the earth’s lips like a concubine’s lips
will not be moistened by a stolen kiss.
Today the sun will come to caress the feet of hills,
whisper at the tip of a stalk a lullaby
for sleeping groundsel
and flake rust off a command sign
on the wall of the military camp
where my daughter shines.
Today love will slide
like a banana down the world’s throat
and its peel discarded among the stars
will be patched above my head
like a personal moon.
Translated by Vivian Eden