"The day when I will step forth from the shade, ever hardy... dressed as the haughtiest mountain divinity... I will flay the surroundings. Like a mourner reaching the delirious end of her senses, and yet will I slay the wild almond tree... My breast... uncovered... will unfurl the forest where I wander... (Woman distanced from the harvest of love)... crossing from the very doorsill... the resting place of my trembling... and I will gnaw... at the eyelids of the days... the seal and stamp of my lips...

          ...Conchita served me the last glass of wine

                        ..."The lover will come
                             Once fearful
                             of a virginity
                             I slept within"...

          ...I listened...

                          ...Night approaches
                             this night
                             where I will knock down
                             the dry figs
                             like flies
                             above the cities
                             of Algiers...

                          ...I will sting
                             I will arouse
                             the torpor of men
                             and the kneeling
                             of their bodies
                             so that
                             their members
                             stiffen
                             and
                             I see there
                             the color
                             of my robe.

                          ...Childless,
                             alone,
                             I will summon
                             the love
                             of the youngest man
                             and the very
                             oldest
                          ...and I will apply
                             my tongue
                             where their staffs
                             cross
                             so that
                             my sex
                             (Oh woman far from the gathering of love)
                             burns.

                          ...Then I will
                             speak
                             of those who
                             astound
                             and who,
                             filled with the
                             song
                             of a fat-bellied
                             lark,
                             snap
                             the slightness
                          ...of my body
                             in the signals
                             of other winds...

                          ...I will bite
                             yes,
                             I will bite

I will tell
of the murder
of the hedgehog
who went off
to the mountains.
(I followed... (in love)...
its hide of quills)
and I sensed
my flesh
in flames
(Oh She In Flames... (my joy)...
sown with quills)...

                          ...I will  bite
                             the staff
                             of the youngest
                             man
                             and of the
                             oldest
                             so they
                             attain
                             in their
                             cries
                             this
                             murder
                             of the hedgehog... Oh Woman In Flames...
                          ...My joy... (this joy)... of the mountains... with their
                             hedgehogs... I... WILL GNAW...


Farès poem is from the novel Passenger From the West (translated by Peter Thompson); novel due out in 2010, from U.N.O. Press.

Ekleksographia:
Wave Two

October, 2009

Poems

Peter Thompson translates Nabile Farès

Peter Thompson teaches modern languages and literature at Roger Williams U. His books include Late Liveries, (poetry, 2000), Daybreak and New Words, (song lyrics, 1996, 1998). More recently he has translated Léon-Paul Fargue's Poèmes (2003), Véronique Tadjo's first book of poetry, Red Earth, (2006), and Nabile Farès's Escuchando tu historia (2008). He has edited two anthologies of francophone literature, and translated the Spanish folksong anthology Vamos a cantar.