Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Abdel-ilah Salhi

RUNNING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION OF BEER

We arrived crawling to point zero
We found the world as promised. Roughly: some rascals peed their pants and went crazy on the wedding night. The guests spat comfortably on their smartphones, invoking a mysterious God. Weather conditions and the clinking of glasses brought no satisfaction; however, we noticed that the hearts of the killers, all not just some, are still vibrant with compassion.
The faint weeping under the pillow late at night. Smooth booties beating in a soft spot inside the head. The sister’s ferocious looks. And beer beer beer beer occupying the day without any resistance. Then Oum Kulthoum says: Do not preoccupy your mind with the past. And there comes Jalal loaded with weird pomegranates and jokes that make no one laugh. We bore with Paris, but Paris didn't bear with us. We are no longer fit for cities. We agreed quickly to a humiliating truce and sought shelter in the bright side of zero.
We ran the opposite direction of beer, when black mountains bent to our sight. Awe overwhelmed us as we veered off the line we drew and, without valid reasons, went back to love at first sight. Then Oum Kulthoum returns with her rude fellows and ignoble fits of yelling. We went astray and didn’t know now where to start. Astray like dogs. We opposed all directions and lost more awareness.
We went back to beer: beer, beer, beer. One last beer until music grew faint and some of the details cleared up. We went back and back again, and no one heeded our melancholy spoils. When the sorrow of one of our dead increased, we handed him more drinks from under the grave. Your friend is the money in your pocket, O Abdel-ilah, the waiter whispered in the midst of my enemy-companions. Those who loved us learned a lot from martyrs and cheap porn movies. Stupidity is not enough excuse in the face of all of this crumbling. Cheap are books of fiction. Then Oum Kulthoum returns for the thousandth time, despite mountains of beer in this five-star hotel. No escape this time from mentioning God and tipping Ahmad to keep him smiling.
 

RENNEN IN DE TEGENGESTELDE RICHTING VAN BIER

Wij kropen naar het nulpunt
We vonden de wereld zoals beloofd. Een paar ongelukkigen piesten in hun broek en loeiden als gekken op een bruiloftsnacht. De gasten spuwden met plezier op hun smartphones en vernederden zich voor een vage god. Het weer en het gerinkel van glazen lesten geen dorst maar we zagen dat de harten van de moordenaars, allemaal niet een paar, vol medegevoel bleven kloppen.
Zacht huilen onder het kussen aan het eind van de nacht. Tere resten kloppen op een zachte plaats in het hoofd. Blikken van het hunkerende zusje. Een biertje, een biertje, een biertje, een biertje verovert de dag zonder tegenstand. Dan zegt Umm Kulthum: Vermoei je verstand niet met het verleden. Jalaal is gekomen met vreemde granaatappels en grappen waarom niemand kan lachen. Wij verdroegen Parijs en Parijs verdroeg ons niet. Wij passen niet in steden. We sloten snel een vernederende wapenstilstand en vluchtten naar de verlichte kant van nul.
Wij renden in de tegengestelde richting van bier en zwarte bergen bogen voor ons. We waren verbaasd, weken af van de lijn die we hadden getrokken en keerden, zonder enige reden, terug naar de liefde op het eerste gezicht. Toen kwam Umm Kulthum terug met haar ruige kerels en het laag-bij-de-grondse geschreeuw. Wij dwaalden zonder te weten waar we deze keer moesten beginnen. Als honden dwaalden we rond. Alle richtingen stonden ons tegen en wij verloren bijna het bewustzijn.
Wij gingen terug naar het bier: een biertje, een biertje, een biertje, toen een laatste biertje tot de muziek wegebde en enkele details duidelijk werden. Wij gingen terug en niemand had belangstelling voor onze droevige buit. De pijn om een van de doden verdubbelde. Wij gaven hem de meeste glazen in het graf. Jouw vriend is je broekzak, Abdel-ilah, fluistert de kelner tussen vijandige klanten. Wie van ons houden, weten veel van martelaren en goedkope pornofilms. Niet weten is een excuus dat niet genoeg is bij deze ramp en de goedkope verhalen. Dan komt Umm Kulthum voor de duizendste keer terug ondanks de hoeveelheden bier in dit vijfsterren hotel. Er is geen ontsnappen aan het verhaal over God en de fooi voor Ahmed om te blijven lachen.
 

الركض في الاتجاه المعاكس للبيرة

وصلنا زحفاً إلى نقطة الصفر
. وجدنا العالم كما وُعدنا به. تقريبا: بالَ بعض الأشقياء في سراويلهم وهَذَوا كمجانين في ليلة عرس. بصق الضيوف بارتياح على هواتفهم الذكية متضرعين لإله مبهم. أحوال الطقس وقرقعة الكؤوس لم تشف الغليل، لكن، لاحظنا أن قلوب القتلة، كلُّهم وليسَ بعضهم، ما زالت تنبض بالرحمة.  
النحيبُ الخافت تحت المخدة في آخر الليل. المؤخرات البضة التي تخفق في مكان هش في الرأس. نظرات الأخت المفترسة. والبيرة البيرة البيرة البيرة تحتل النهار بلا مقاومة. ثم تقول أم كلثوم: لا تشغل البال بماضي الزمان. ويأتي جلال مثقلا برُمان غريب ونكات لا تضحك أحدا. صبَرنا على باريس وباريس لم تصبر علينا. لم نعد نصلح للمدن. اتفقنا بسرعة على هدنة مهينة واحتمينا بالجانب المضيء من الصفر.  
ركضنا في الاتجاه المعاكس للبيرة، وانحنت لمرآنا جبال سوداء. غمرتنا الدهشة وخرجنا عن الخط الذي رسمناه وعُدنا، بدون أسباب مقنعة، للحب من أول نظرة. ثم عادت أم كلثوم برجالها الغلاظ وأنواع منحطة من الصراخ. تُهنا ولم نعرف من أين نبدأ هذه المرة. تُهنا ككلاب. عاكستنا الاتجاهات جميعها وفقدنا مزيدا من الوعي. 

عُدنا إلى البيرة:  بيرة، بيرة، بيرة. ثم بيرة أخيرة إلى أن خفتت الموسيقى واتضحت بعض التفاصيل. عدنا ثم عدنا ولا أحد اهتم بغنائمنا الكئيبة. تضاعف حزنُ أحد موتانا، فدفعنا له المزيد من الكؤوس تحت القبر. صديقك هو جيبكَ يا عبدالإله ، يهمسُ النادل وسط الرفاق الاعداء. والذين أحبونا تعلموا كثيرا من الشهداء وأفلام البورنو الرخيصة. الغباء عذر لا يكفي أمام كل هذا الانهيار. والروايات رخيصة. ثم تعود أم كلثوم للمرة الألف رغم جبال البيرة في هذا الفندق المصنف بخمس نجوم ولا مناص هذه المرة من الحديث عن الله ودفع بقشيش لأحمد كي يظل مبتسما.
 
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RUNNING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION OF BEER

We arrived crawling to point zero
We found the world as promised. Roughly: some rascals peed their pants and went crazy on the wedding night. The guests spat comfortably on their smartphones, invoking a mysterious God. Weather conditions and the clinking of glasses brought no satisfaction; however, we noticed that the hearts of the killers, all not just some, are still vibrant with compassion.
The faint weeping under the pillow late at night. Smooth booties beating in a soft spot inside the head. The sister’s ferocious looks. And beer beer beer beer occupying the day without any resistance. Then Oum Kulthoum says: Do not preoccupy your mind with the past. And there comes Jalal loaded with weird pomegranates and jokes that make no one laugh. We bore with Paris, but Paris didn't bear with us. We are no longer fit for cities. We agreed quickly to a humiliating truce and sought shelter in the bright side of zero.
We ran the opposite direction of beer, when black mountains bent to our sight. Awe overwhelmed us as we veered off the line we drew and, without valid reasons, went back to love at first sight. Then Oum Kulthoum returns with her rude fellows and ignoble fits of yelling. We went astray and didn’t know now where to start. Astray like dogs. We opposed all directions and lost more awareness.
We went back to beer: beer, beer, beer. One last beer until music grew faint and some of the details cleared up. We went back and back again, and no one heeded our melancholy spoils. When the sorrow of one of our dead increased, we handed him more drinks from under the grave. Your friend is the money in your pocket, O Abdel-ilah, the waiter whispered in the midst of my enemy-companions. Those who loved us learned a lot from martyrs and cheap porn movies. Stupidity is not enough excuse in the face of all of this crumbling. Cheap are books of fiction. Then Oum Kulthoum returns for the thousandth time, despite mountains of beer in this five-star hotel. No escape this time from mentioning God and tipping Ahmad to keep him smiling.
 

RUNNING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION OF BEER

We arrived crawling to point zero
We found the world as promised. Roughly: some rascals peed their pants and went crazy on the wedding night. The guests spat comfortably on their smartphones, invoking a mysterious God. Weather conditions and the clinking of glasses brought no satisfaction; however, we noticed that the hearts of the killers, all not just some, are still vibrant with compassion.
The faint weeping under the pillow late at night. Smooth booties beating in a soft spot inside the head. The sister’s ferocious looks. And beer beer beer beer occupying the day without any resistance. Then Oum Kulthoum says: Do not preoccupy your mind with the past. And there comes Jalal loaded with weird pomegranates and jokes that make no one laugh. We bore with Paris, but Paris didn't bear with us. We are no longer fit for cities. We agreed quickly to a humiliating truce and sought shelter in the bright side of zero.
We ran the opposite direction of beer, when black mountains bent to our sight. Awe overwhelmed us as we veered off the line we drew and, without valid reasons, went back to love at first sight. Then Oum Kulthoum returns with her rude fellows and ignoble fits of yelling. We went astray and didn’t know now where to start. Astray like dogs. We opposed all directions and lost more awareness.
We went back to beer: beer, beer, beer. One last beer until music grew faint and some of the details cleared up. We went back and back again, and no one heeded our melancholy spoils. When the sorrow of one of our dead increased, we handed him more drinks from under the grave. Your friend is the money in your pocket, O Abdel-ilah, the waiter whispered in the midst of my enemy-companions. Those who loved us learned a lot from martyrs and cheap porn movies. Stupidity is not enough excuse in the face of all of this crumbling. Cheap are books of fiction. Then Oum Kulthoum returns for the thousandth time, despite mountains of beer in this five-star hotel. No escape this time from mentioning God and tipping Ahmad to keep him smiling.
 
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
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