poetry · Issue No. 11, November 1957 · p. 26
A Scream!..
صراخ !.. · نبيهة صالح
It was one night...
We asked each other: is this a scream?
And what is this scream?..
And where does it come from?..
And we two went out searching for its source,
and we came back having found nothing...
because there was nothing outside.
A scream?..
Yes — it rose, a scream from the depths.
The scream of a tormented soul —
and that soul is mine!
But it is a silent, bitter scream
that burst out near her from the belly of the night.
She heard it with her heart, for I live in her heart.
And he heard it with his conscience,
for he is the source of the bitterness and the cause of this scream!
كانت ليلة ...
تساءلنا : أصراخ هذا ؟
وما هذا الصراخ ؟..
ومن أين آت ؟..
وخرجنا نبحثان عن مصدره،
وعدنا ولم نجدا شيئاً ..
لأنه لم يكن في الخارج شيء.
صراخ ؟..
نعم سما صراخاً من الأعماق.
صراخ نفس معذبة،
هي نفسي !
ولكنه صراخ صامت مرير
انطلق من قربها من جوف الليل.
سمته هي بقلبها، لأني أعيش بقلبها.
وسمعه هو بضميره،
لأنه هو مصدر المرارة وسبب هذا الصراخ!
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