Poem
Habib Tengour
CAESURA – VI.
She has never left that trace that sometimes can be read in the rock. Everyone localizes there where a nostalgia presses him. To describe her you invoke the trees and the fauna all around. All the villages of Arabia with their early flowers and their gusts of wind get listed.An ideal geography in which all stations are equivalent. The women of the tribe are beautiful and inaccessible. Violent desire mocks your ardor. With nothing holding it back it drifts into the joust. There’s also the red wine and the angry outbursts.
‘And love? How does that happen, in the desert? Because people love, before all else!’
The poet trusts in his technique and in the scope of the vocabulary. He has a whole year to accomplish his task.
© Translation: 2012, Pierre Joris
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: Black Widow Press, Boston, 2012
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: Black Widow Press, Boston, 2012
CESUUR – VI.
Ze heeft nooit het spoor verlaten dat soms in de rots te lezen staat. Iedereen lokaliseert daar waar een nostalgie hem dwingt. Om haar te beschrijven roep je de bomen en de fauna in de omgeving aan. Alle dorpen van Arabië, met hun vroege bloemen en hun rukwinden moeten eraan geloven.Een ideale geografie waar alle stations op elkaar lijken. De vrouwen van de stam zijn mooi en ongenaakbaar. Hevig verlangen drijft de spot met je vurigheid. Onbeteugeld raakt het op drift in het steekspel. Dan is er nog de rode wijn en de uitvallen.
‘En de liefde? Hoe staat het daarmee in de woestijn? Want de mensen hebben voor alles lief!’
De dichter vertrouwt op zijn techniek en op de uitgestrektheid van de woordenschat. Hij heeft een heel jaar om zijn taak te volbrengen.
© Vertaling: 2014, Kiki Coumans
CÉSURE – VI
Elle n’a jamais quitté cette trace qui se lit dans la roche quelquefois. Chacun localise là où une nostalgie le presse. Pour la décrire tu invoques les arbres et la faune à l’entour. Tous les patelins d’Arabie, et leurs fleurs précoces et leurs bourrasques y passent.Une géographie idéale où les stations s’équivalent. Les femmes de la tribu sont belles et inaccessibles. Le désir violent moque ton ardeur. Il dérive sans retenue dans la joute. Il y a aussi le vin rouge et les algarades.
« Et l’amour ? Comment cela se passe, dans le désert ? Car ces gens aiment par-dessus tout ! »
Le poète se fie à sa technique et l’étendue du vocabulaire. Il a toute une année pour accomplir sa tâche.
© 2006, Habib Tengour
From: Césure
Publisher: Editions WIGWAM, Rennes
From: Césure
Publisher: Editions WIGWAM, Rennes
Poems
Poems of Habib Tengour
Close
CAESURA – VI.
She has never left that trace that sometimes can be read in the rock. Everyone localizes there where a nostalgia presses him. To describe her you invoke the trees and the fauna all around. All the villages of Arabia with their early flowers and their gusts of wind get listed.An ideal geography in which all stations are equivalent. The women of the tribe are beautiful and inaccessible. Violent desire mocks your ardor. With nothing holding it back it drifts into the joust. There’s also the red wine and the angry outbursts.
‘And love? How does that happen, in the desert? Because people love, before all else!’
The poet trusts in his technique and in the scope of the vocabulary. He has a whole year to accomplish his task.
© 2012, Pierre Joris
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: 2012, Black Widow Press, Boston
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: 2012, Black Widow Press, Boston
CAESURA – VI.
She has never left that trace that sometimes can be read in the rock. Everyone localizes there where a nostalgia presses him. To describe her you invoke the trees and the fauna all around. All the villages of Arabia with their early flowers and their gusts of wind get listed.An ideal geography in which all stations are equivalent. The women of the tribe are beautiful and inaccessible. Violent desire mocks your ardor. With nothing holding it back it drifts into the joust. There’s also the red wine and the angry outbursts.
‘And love? How does that happen, in the desert? Because people love, before all else!’
The poet trusts in his technique and in the scope of the vocabulary. He has a whole year to accomplish his task.
© 2012, Pierre Joris
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: 2012, Black Widow Press, Boston
From: Exile is my trade: A Habib Tengour Reader
Publisher: 2012, Black Widow Press, Boston
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère