The sin is that I wasn't a stone
And the troubles of the world make me sleepless
And I shield myself with poetry
And poetry is my satchel that I will always carry with me
It holds the taste and fragrance of the earth
It holds thickets of prickly branches
It holds palm fronds loaded with dates
It paints all the stories of love in my language
Its colours form the spectrum from grape to dawn
And I said bring the most beautiful of stringed instruments
So the universe may know how music flows
And play its soothing melody
That brings justice to those who are in love
Letters burden this world of mine
Trouble leeches ink from the quill
Trouble leeches ink from the quill
When I read of the longing of lovers I burn
Mbarka Mint al-Barra’ (born 1957) Mauritania
Translated by Joel Mitchell and The Poetry Translation Workshop
Source: The Poetry Translation Centre
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