Alif - Dars Min Kama Sutra (Lesson From Kama Sutra) درس من كاما سوترا | Текст песни

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• Dars Min Kama Sutra (Lesson From Kama Sutra) درس من كاما سوترا

دَرْسٌ مِنَ كامَاسُوترا
بِكوبِ الشَّرابِ المُرَصَّعِ باللازَوَردِ
انْتَظِرْها،
بِصَبْرِ الحِصانِ المُعَدّ لِمُنْحَدَراتِ الجِبالِ
انْتَظِرْها،

بِذَوْقِ الأميرِ الرَّفيعِ البَديعِ
انْتَظِرْها
بِسَبْعِ وَسائدَ مَحْشُوَّةٍ بِالسَّحابِ الخَفيفِ
انتَظِرْها،
بنارِ البَخُورِ النِّسائيِّ مِلءَ المَكانِ
انتَظِرْها،

ولا تَتَعَجَّلْ
فإنْ أَقْبَلَتْ بَعْدَ مَوْعِدِها
فَانْتَظِرْها،
وَإِن أَقْبَلَتْ قَبْلَ مَوْعِدِها
فانْتَظِرْها
وَلا تُجْفِلِ الطَّيْرَ فَوْقَ جَدائِلِها
وانْتَظِرْها،
لِكَيْ تَتَنَفَّسَ هذا الهواءَ الغَريبَ عَلى قَلبِها
وانْتَظِرها،
لِتَرفَعَ عَنْ ساقِها ثَوْبَها غَيْمَةً غَيمَةً
وانْتَظِرْها،

ومُسَّ على مَهَلٍ يَدَها عِنْدَما تَضَعُ الكأسَ فَوْقَ الرُّخامِ
كأنَّكَ تَحْمِلُ عَنْها النَّدى
وانْتَظِرها،

تَحَدَّثْ إِلَيْها كَما يَتَحَدَّثُ نايٌ إِلى وَتَرٍ خائِفٍ في الكَمانِ
كَأنَّكُما شاهِدانِ على ما يُعِدُّ غَدٌ لكما
وانْتَظِرْها،

وَلَمِّعْ لَها لَيْلَها خاتَماً خاتَماً
وانْتَظِرْها
إِلى أَن يَقولَ لَكَ اللَّيلُ:
لَمْ يَبْقَ غَيْرُكُما في الوجودِ
فَخُذْها، بِرِفْقٍ، إِلى مَوْتِكَ المُشْتَهى
وانْتَظِرْها

شعر لمحمود درويش

With a wine glass, ornamented in lapis lazuli,
wait for her. With the patience of a horse prepared for mountain slopes,
wait for her. With the courtesy of a refined and splendid prince,
wait for her.

With the softness of seven pillows filled with clouds,
wait for her. With the fire of feminine incense that fills the place,
wait for her, and don’t make haste.

If she arrives behind time,
if she arrives ahead of time,
wait for her.

Don’t startle the bird resting on her curls, and wait for her
to make herself as comfortable as a garden in full bloom, and wait for her
to breathe this air that is a stranger to her heart, and wait for her
to pull up her dress one cloud at a time, and wait for her.

When she places the glass on the marble top, slowly touch her hand
as if to relieve her of the burden of dew drops,
and wait for her.

Talk to her, like a flute to an anxious violin string,
like two witnesses to the schemes of some tomorrow,
and wait for her. Polish her night one ring at a time, and wait for her
until the night tells you:

There is no one left in the world
but the two of you. Only then,
take her, gently, to your desired death,
and wait for her.

Poem by Mahmoud Darwish. English translation by Nariman Youssef

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