Maram Al-Masri [Syria / France]

 

The Bread of Letters
 
I
 
Who will blame the trees
when they loose their leaves?
who will accuse the sea of abandoning
shells on the sand?
 
I, mother-woman, woman-mother
with two breasts for pleasure
and two breasts for maternity
who give the milk of music
tell stories
explain games
light up feelings
and the grammar of thoughts
I, woman of delight
and tenderness
virtuous and sinful
mature and childlike
with my mouth
I feed the bread of letters
consonants and vowels
sentences, synonyms and comparisons.
 
 
Who will accuse me
of making a gift of my body
to love?
 
 
[from “The Abduction” by Maram Al-Masri, Translated by Hélène Cardona]
 
 
 
 
II
 
The act of writing
isn’t it a scandalous act in itself?
 
To write
is learning to know our
most intimate thoughts
 
Yes I am scandalous
because I show my truth and my nakedness of woman
 
Yes I am scandalous
because I scream my sorrow and my hope
my desire, my hunger and my thirst
 
To write
is to describe the multiple faces of man
the beautiful and the ugly
the tender and the cruel
 
To write is to die in front of someone
who looks at you, unmoved
 
it is to drown in front of a boat passing you by
without seeing you
 
To write
is to be the boat that saves the drowning
 
To write
is to live on the cliff’s edge
clinging to a blade
of grass
 
When I write, my self belongs to the other
with this conviction
I am freed.
 
 
[from “The Abduction” by Maram Al-Masri, Translated by Hélène Cardona]
 
 
 
 
I promise you, Mother
 
I promise you, Mother
all is well
 
Let your body rest as much as possible
sleep gently
and don’t let nightmares disturb your peace
 
Tonight, you needn’t
free your soul
to roam about the house
 
Your little children have grown
the eldest boy married just after you left us
you know his wife, who was my friend
Now they have two children
He gave the first-born his father’s name
 
You can be proud of the second,
whose absence made you weep with worry
because he married too
You don’t know his wife
but you would love her
He has a child to whom he gave his father’s name
 
As for the third, so spoiled,
it’s true he doesn’t work but don’t worry
one day he will
and don’t be surprised if one day he gets married
perhaps he’ll give his first-born
his father’s name
 
I don’t know if you know
that my sister and I
both also married
Me, I’m divorced
Don’t panic
it’s not so bad
except if you’d been there
my child wouldn’t have been taken from me
But no need to be sad
as you are far from pain and time
I saw your friend yesterday
my God, how she’s changed!
She’s grown old and is losing her teeth
You, young woman
you will remain like the day you closed your eyes
You may have done well
so you won’t see
even if I tell you otherwise
that my father remarried
and that we are truly orphans without you
 
[from “The Abduction” by Maram Al-Masri, Translated by Hélène Cardona]
 
 

Author’s Bionote:
 
*Maram Al-Masri was born in Latakia, Syria, and moved to France in 1982 following the completion of English Literature studies at Damascus University. She is the recipient of many prestigious literary prizes, including the Prix d’Automne 2007 de Poésie de la Société des Gens De Lettres, the Adonis Prize of the Lebanese Cultural Forum, the Premio Citta di Calopezzati for the section Poésie de la Méditerranée, Il Fiore d’Argento for cultural excellence, and the Dante Alighieri Prize. Today Maram is considered one of the most acknowledged, influential, and captivating voices of her generation. Al-Masri’s eighteen books include “Je te regarde”, “Cerise rouge sur un carrelage blanc”, “Le retour de Walada”, “Elle va nue la liberté”, “Je te menace d’une colombe blanche”, “Le Rapt”, and two anthologies, including ‘Femmes poètes du monde arabe”.