I Write My Hidden Longing

12 May


I write my hidden longing:

I tried to defend him with my eyes,
But I looked around and was cornered.
Destiny had found me.

My rib is broken,
And I can find no one to heal me.

My body is frail,
And I can see no relief ahead.

Before me is a tumultuous sea;
The land continues to call me.
But I am sailing in my thoughts.

The ingenious have murdered me in my home.

I wish someone would comfort me;
At night I taste bile and cannot sleep.

The tears of someone else’s longing are affecting me;
My chest cannot take the vastness of emotion.

The Book of God consoles me,
And dulls the pains I have suffered.
The Book of God assuages my misery,
Even though they declared war against it.

I stand tall and smile in the face of misery.
I am satisfied.

Oh Father, tell the tearful one,
“Do not forget me, as I do not forget you.”
He will understand my condition.

And when you pass by life’s familiar objects–
The Bedouin rugs, the bound branches,
The flight of pigeons–
Remember me.

I salute the brothers,
And pray peace to those who remain faithful.
I say hello to Shwayman.
And to everyone whom I love,
And to everyone who misses me.

Remember, pray to God for those whom I love.
Maybe God, with His Kindness, will have Mercy on me.


Abdullah Majid Al Noaimi, former Guantanamo detainee

Lire ce poème en français


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