And I have dreamt today, mother
of winds storming the grazing lands
holding back my horses
expelling my camels
lashing me in public with a snake
tying me behind my tribe's campsite
and when thirsty, it serves me my blood mother, it has stretched in its tyranny
***
And yesterday I saw, mother, horses with severed heads invading my tribe
And I saw a woman over a banner hoisted chanting my name
naked, blood-ridden
I saw ruby coloured clouds racing over our campsite
Showering our tribe's men with firewater and the spirit of poison.
And I saw you, mother, in anguish
spreading sand between the dead
gathering left over flesh
and I saw a crow as great as the night
crowing around me
circling around the tent, neglecting my presence
stealing my child
and flying far away
leaving me wallowing in the black sand
I lost my sanity
I saw lions roaring whispers
I saw dogs barking at the sun
I saw voracious wolves
I saw crowds of black ants on flowers
I saw drunken goats
***
And I have dreamt today, mother, of the long tamarisk branches
protruding out of the horses' corpses
turning into yellow buds
smelling of a stony scent
intertwined like the horns of deer
mushrooming like a terminal anxiety
the teeth of the night chews on it
vomiting it on the flowery face of dusk
in the face of whorish times
spitting on a generation's face
and I saw the big cities running across the desert's mirage
hunted by a tiring sense of fear
chased by a terrifying sickness
the devil of estrangement and evil
breaking it stone by stone.
And I saw falcons, black-ear kites, and penguins hovering over the cities I saw the blood of its kin
dripping from the vulture's claws
I saw an eagle hijacking a palace
and saw snakes in the horizon
drawing rainbows
I saw faces on terraces.
wearing ghostly masks
I saw minds on the streets
drinking a salty toast
***
Mother, is this a nightmare or an illusion?
or is it something approaching, or...
is this isolating restlessness a dream?
but, since awakening, I felt when laying my head
on the tent's cord
feeling the grass
like spikes it stings me
The cord severs th neck
and it moves from wasit (middle column) towards the 'uqda (the knot on
the peg)
***
And I have dreamt, mother, that I was blindfolded
And my tribe's campsite pilfered
And the heads of my men plastered to the wall And I saw you mother not crying
Because tears are crucified
and because the 'uqda is now tied to the wasit
Suleiman al-Fulayyih