These excerpts are from the Italian language translation of “The Idea of A River” a book length, Arabic language poem by Moroccan poet Hassan Najmi, translated into Italian from Arabic by Sana Darghmouni (L’idea del fiume, Astarte Edizioni, 2023). The English translation of the fragments below is by Pina Piccolo.
Cover art by Marta Abbott, BLUE CLOUD -MOON CLOUD.
[…]
Even today I lean out and look –
The river is down there
among the greenery
between two cities
between two lives
like time it advances
ferments
becomes delicious like wine
has its own version of the story of kings,
of soldiers
and the bodies
it has unforgettable stories with rains, floods and meadows
it does not forget
yet it doesn’t tell them.
Even today I lean out and look –
I don’t know how to get out of myself
I know the river is flowing down there
(I must have pointed at it with my index finger)
to drown
[…]
Be calm
don’t be jealous of the flock’s shadow
rivers don’t fly
Be wise
wave with your hand and go
extinguish your desire to stand like a poplar
only rivers run
Enjoy the road
listen to the wingbeat of butterflies
the heartbeats on the balcony
and in metaphor
Don’t trust your murmur
it will hide from you
the jingling of girls’ bracelets
the lovers’ vigils on the banks
and the carefree steps of songs will move away from you
Walk by yourself
like free verse in poetry,
a small doubt on the margin of a map in the students’ notebooks
pass over reeds intertwining in my dream
and don’t forget me.
[…]
Earth delights in the river –
and the cypress is lonely.
A cloud of seagulls
moves the shadow lying over the water.
There are dusty passages –
through which the ghosts of the dead come down to drink
[…]
The river knows –
It must sacrifice
Therefore, it renounces a bit of its water
along the way, makes deals with tributaries
And goes its way
certain of its death
[…]
The river is peacefully down there, its memory is frail
it causes furrows and distances to stumble
and carries along bones, shirts and the affliction of villages
it knows not what to do with flashes of lightning
nor with this sanctuary it has erected on a hill in order to rest
nor with me – I lean out from balcony and look and dream
I want to start life
[…]
I stop on the left bank –
towards the old bridge
on a Sunday morning with a wounded light.
The river is in the direction of the sea.
It moves slowly like a stream of salt –
It curls in on itself like a forest of mirrors.
I stop alone.
I listen to its melancholy song:
On the way to the sea I understand my defeat.
I know that I give up.
I know that I will dissolve in the salt of the sea.
I think about this:
how does it spread again?
By returning to its distant and explosive source
to start again.
[…]
As if its birds were migrating –
the river has hung its gaze on the roof of the universe.
I see it rowing with its arms
following the course of the clouds.
My balcony is winged tonight –
I don’t know how to see.
I stretch out my fingers like a blind man –
I want to touch the light rain.
I want to let the river enter the poem.
A child throws a stone against the river
he liked the ripples in the water.
[…]
A warm and tranquil summer –
advances like a confident wolf
with lamb’s eyes.
A river that loves the glory of thirst.
It dreams of a permanent spring –
in which its banks bloom.
[…]
What does a river say to a person?
What does a person say to a river?
They look at each other.
They just watch.
They mostly watch.
In silence –
they exchange meaning.
Hassan Najmi (born on March 7, 1960) is a Moroccan poet, born in Ben Ahmed. His first book of poems Lavenders’ Princedom was published in 1982. Although his early work shows the influence of poets such as Ahmed Mejjati, Mohammed Serghini and Abdelkarim Tabbal, his poetry has since evolved along its own path. He was President of the Union of Moroccan Writers (1998-2005).
A selection of his poetry has been translated into English by Mbarek Sryfi and Eric Sellin under the title The Blueness of the Evening: Selected Poems of Hassan Najmi. His novel Gertrude has also been translated by Roger Allen.
