This World Open - Mohamed Sehaba

After infinite abandonments this world open.

Nothing but the cold isthmus, nothing but the sea

that abandons everything and embraces only death.

My table is empty. The minutes are not reallocated

to memories, nor to gatherings.

Open is the time that yawns

like the mouth of god,

time relieved of making itself comprehensible.

I huddle in my path

to confound death with impending birth,

I mime flight,

but to tell the truth I twist and turn in my demise.

Nothing holds back.

I mime life,

but to tell the truth I am the statue

that rolls towards useless coastlines.

I touch you, and your shoulders are sand to me.

And this music eats into me

reminding me neither of woman, nor wine, nor wind:

my fear cleared for itself a lonely audience.

---

Mohamed Sehaba (born 1952) Algeria

Translated by Yolande Schutter

Source: Translations of Mohamed Sehaba, Yolande G. Schutter, Living in Languages, Volume 1, Fall 2021, Article 7, 2021 [Creative Commons Non-Commercial 4.0 International License]