Goodbye, Lebanon
Goodbye, Lebanese mountains.
I’m going far
from your pink rose garlands,
your bright red satin strawberries.
Egypt called in a serious voice,
and already my rocking boat
bears new fruit –
But sea, whisper your lullabies
please, because I hurt so much.
Soft waves of home, sob for me.
Don’t go away so quickly, my love.
Leaving you, my chest is all wound,
wholly tender.
Lebanon,
you made me. Your moody nights
put the darkness in my eyes
and laid a vein of lightning in my soul.
Your white lace waterfalls wove
jasmine vines and oud serenades
all through me,
and my speech is the Spirit
murmuring in your woods.
My capricious seasons are yours:
my soul is sometimes wild,
an egret flying far
beyond the ocean’s edge,
and sometimes I curl up,
tender as an anemone when touched,
damp with seafoam tears.
Fading from sight, you’re a dream
that ends. But grief goes on.
Goodbye my nest.
I love you, Lebanon. I adore you.
Lebanon, goodbye.
My heart –
pink roses,
red strawberries
– turns to vapor with the word:
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
~ May Ziadeh
(translated from the French by Rose DeMaris)