Poem
Mourid Barghouti
It\'s Also Fine
It’s also fine to die in our bedson a clean pillow
and among our friends.
It’s fine to die, once,
our hands crossed on our chests,
empty and pale,
with no scratches, no chains, no banners,
and no petitions.
It’s fine to have a clean death,
with no holes in our shirts,
and no evidence in our ribs.
It’s fine to die
with a white pillow, not the pavement, under our cheek,
with our hands resting in those of our loved ones,
surrounded by desperate doctors and nurses,
with nothing left but a graceful farewell,
paying no attention to history,
leaving this world as it is,
hoping that, someday, someone else
will change it.
© Translation: 2009, Radwa Ashour
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire, 2009
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire, 2009
HET GEEFT NIET
Het geeft niet dat wij in bed doodgaanop een schoon kussen
omringd door vrienden
Het geeft niet dat wij doodgaan
de handen op de borst gevouwen
ze zijn wat bleek
zonder schrammen, ongeboeid
zonder vlag of bedelbrief
Het geeft niet dat wij zonder ophef sterven
in een hemd zonder gaten
zonder lijfelijke bewijzen
Het geeft niet dat wij sterven met een wit kussen
en niet een trottoir onder ons hoofd
de hand in de hand van wie wij houden
met een wanhopige arts en verpleegsters om ons heen
wij kunnen alleen elegant afscheid nemen
zonder om belangrijke
dagen te geven
de wereld de wereld te laten
misschien dat ‘anderen’
haar veranderen
© Vertaling: 2009, Kees Nijland en Asad Jaber
© 2009, Mourid Barghouti
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
Poems
Poems of Mourid Barghouti
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It\'s Also Fine
It’s also fine to die in our bedson a clean pillow
and among our friends.
It’s fine to die, once,
our hands crossed on our chests,
empty and pale,
with no scratches, no chains, no banners,
and no petitions.
It’s fine to have a clean death,
with no holes in our shirts,
and no evidence in our ribs.
It’s fine to die
with a white pillow, not the pavement, under our cheek,
with our hands resting in those of our loved ones,
surrounded by desperate doctors and nurses,
with nothing left but a graceful farewell,
paying no attention to history,
leaving this world as it is,
hoping that, someday, someone else
will change it.
© 2009, Radwa Ashour
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: 2009, Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: 2009, Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
It\'s Also Fine
It’s also fine to die in our bedson a clean pillow
and among our friends.
It’s fine to die, once,
our hands crossed on our chests,
empty and pale,
with no scratches, no chains, no banners,
and no petitions.
It’s fine to have a clean death,
with no holes in our shirts,
and no evidence in our ribs.
It’s fine to die
with a white pillow, not the pavement, under our cheek,
with our hands resting in those of our loved ones,
surrounded by desperate doctors and nurses,
with nothing left but a graceful farewell,
paying no attention to history,
leaving this world as it is,
hoping that, someday, someone else
will change it.
© 2009, Radwa Ashour
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: 2009, Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
From: Midnight and Other Poems
Publisher: 2009, Arc Publications, Todmorden, Lancashire
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