Summer Camp in Dorset (Recitative)

Poem read in silence at Dorset Summer Camp whilst outside my tent the sky is weeping, the grass is laughing and the diminutive wild life in the undergrowth continues to wage war and broker peace with itself.


With the drinking glass studded with lapis
Wait for her,
By the pool around the evening and the rose perfume
Wait for her,
With the patience of the horse prepared for mountain descent
Wait for her,
With the manners of the refined and marvellous prince
Wait for her,
With seven pillows stuffed with light clouds
Wait for her,
With the sandalwood male scent around the backs of horses
Wait for her,
And don’t hurry, so if she arrives late
Wait for her,
And if she arrives early
Wait for her,
And don’t startle the birds in her braids
And wait for her,
So that she sits comfortably in her beauty’s summit in the garden
And wait for her,
So she may breathe this strange air upon her heart
And wait for her,
So that she lifts her dress off her calf cloud by cloud
And wait for her,
Take her to a balcony to see a moon frowning in milk
And wait for her,
Offer her water, before wine, and don’t
Look at twin partridges sleeping on her chest
And wait for her,
Slowly touch her hand
When she places the glass on the marble
As if you were carrying dew for her
And wait for her,
Talk to her as a flute talks
To a frightened violin string
As if you two were witnesses to what tomorrow prepares for you
And wait for her
Brighten her night ring by ring
And wait for her
Until the night says to you:
You are the only two left in the universe
So take her, gently, to your desired death
And wait for her! …

A Lesson from Kama Sutra

Mahmoud Darwish
Taken from ‘The Stranger’s Bed’ (1998)


Copyright 2008