Category Archives: Poetry

Ne’oul Eih

by Amr Diab

Lyrics in Arabic:

The rhythm of crunching stones is unforgettable. The pattern of walking, is it towards or is it away?

My translation:

What more can we say? It’s over, my love—there’s nothing left to say
We’ve reached heights of love that none before have ever known
I am yours alone, and shall never belong to another
How can this heart bear even one moment apart from you?

I am yours alone, and shall never belong to another
How can this heart bear even one moment apart from you?
I am yours alone, and shall never belong to another
How can this heart bear even one moment apart from you?

My beloved, how can I describe this joy you bring me—it overwhelms
More than I ever dared to dream now rests within my hands
I am yours alone, and shall never belong to another
How can this heart bear even one moment apart from you?

I am yours alone, and shall never belong to another
How can this heart bear even one moment apart from you?

Happy St Raphael’s Day

Thankfully the British Roman Catholic Church has tried to help clarify the holiday on February 14th. Apparently they have said that prayers for love should be directed to St Raphael instead of St Valentine.

Although St Valentine sent a nice note to his jailer’s daughter that said “From your Valentine” (not to mention he cured her sight) St Raphael helped Sarah survive a wedding to Tobias. Tobias’ previous seven brides died on their wedding night.

St Raphael thus saved women from death by marriage. Could anything possibly represent love more? On the other hand, if you still wish to pray to St Valentine on this day, perhaps eye surgery is a good fit, or even the mail.

Given the Church’s advice, I could not help but reference a Litany of St Raphael. Contrary to their suggestion, however, I found no mention of love. The only time the word seems to be mentioned is “lover of chastity”. Hmm, back to marriage again. Is there more to the Church’s advice than meets the eye regarding who to pray towards on February 14th?

Alternatively, we could just agree that Valentine’s day is not really about love, but rather celebrating criminal activity for which you may or not be canonized.

Eugene Onegin

A. S. Pushkin Eugene Onegin Translation by Charles H. Johnston

XII

As if before some mournful parting
Tatyana groaned above the tide;
she saw no friendly figure starting
to help her from the other side;
but suddenly a snowdrift rumbled,
and what came out? a hairy, tumbled,
enormous bear; Tatyana yelled,
the bear let out a roar, and held
a sharp-nailed paw towards her; bracing
her nerves, she leant on it her weight,
and with a halting, trembling gait
above the water started tracing
her way; she passed, then as she walked
the bear — what next? — behind her stalked.

XIII

A backward look is fraught with danger;
she speeds her footsteps to a race,
but from her shaggy-liveried ranger
she can’t escape at any pace —
the odious bear still grunts and lumbers.
Ahead of them a pinewood slumbers
in the full beauty of its frown;
the branches all are weighted down
with tufts of snow; and through the lifted
summits of aspen, birch and lime,
the nightly luminaries climb.
No path to see: the snow has drifted
across each bush, across each steep,
and all the world is buried deep.

XIV

She’s in the wood, the bear still trails her.
There’s powdery snow up to her knees;
now a protruding branch assails her
and clasps her neck; and now she sees
her golden earrings off and whipping;
and now the crunchy snow is stripping
her darling foot of its wet shoe,
her handkerchief has fallen too;
no time to pick it up — she’s dying
with fright, she hears the approaching bear;
her fingers shake, she doesn’t dare
to lift her skirt up; still she’s flying,
and he pursuing, till at length
she flies no more, she’s lost her strength.

XV

She’s fallen in the snow — alertly
the bear has raised her in his paws;
and she, submissively, inertly —
no move she makes, no breath she draws;
he whirls her through the wood… a hovel
shows up through trees, all of a grovel
in darkest forest depths and drowned
by dreary snowdrifts piled around;
there’s a small window shining in it,
and from within come noise and cheer;
the bear explains: “my cousin’s here —
come in and warm yourself a minute!”
he carries her inside the door
and sets her gently on the floor.