poetry · Issue No. 2, February 1951 · p. 7
Consolation
مؤاساة · توفيق صايغ
He had a tomorrow, and he had an ambition; and they were, to him, life. The tomorrow departed, and the ambition strayed; and he fell.
He fell — so raise him up: he will rise only by you.
Bend over him: the horizon has grown black before him, mankind has cast him out, and he has renounced —
the earth, life, himself; everything he has renounced — except you... So bend over him.
Touch his brow, and he will revive; pass your hand over his slackened cheek, and freshness will return to it. Touch him — with your palm touch him,
with the palm of tenderness touch him — and he will not look toward the lips.
O woman: he who loved in you the lips did not love you; he loved you who loved in you this palm of tenderness.
كان له غد، وكان له طموح؛ وكانا له الحياة. وولّى الغد، وتاه الطموح؛ فهوى.
هوى، فارفعيه: فلن يرقى الا بكِ.
ميلي عليه: قد ادلهمّ الافقُ امامه، ولفظته البشرية، وكفر —
بالارض، بالحياة، بنفسه؛ بكل شيء كفر — الا بكِ .. فميلي عليه.
المسي جبينه، وسينتعش؛ مرّي على خدّه المرتخي بيدك، فتعود اليه النضارة. المسيه، بكفك المسيه،
بكفّ العطف المسيه — ولن يتطلع الى الشفاه.
يا امرأة: ما احبّك من احب فيك الشفاه: أحبّك من احبّ فيك كفّ العطف هذه.
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