A poem by Youssef Rakha

by qisasukhra

A new poem by Youssef Rakha that can be found here on his website (text and recording).

h

h

First song of autumn

h

Joy of my days, come

watch me run

I’ve bought white shoes

and see-through eagle’s wings

h

I am the clarinet’s mouth

and you the ransomed player

Kneel and guzzle me, set

the sea’s taste in my throat

and make my breast a wave

upon whose mane the sun

sows jewels

Lick behind my ear

Pushing me gently over the kerb

you shall see me crossing the asphalt

quicker and higher

till I unburden and become a pigeon

and when I turn into a spot on the horizon

tell me that life begins at forty,

remind me of the years to come,

strip off my sweat-stained clothes,

wash me, your song breaking

against hot water’s notes,

around my blurred face draw

in the mirror’s steam a heart

aglow, in light

In dreams I still smoke and strip a village girl

that I’ve just met

in my mother’s house. The incense mixes with her acrid scent

When I wake I can’t believe it

Joy of my days,

watch me fly

I have booked you a bed in the room along

Distances will no longer divide us

I am the mouth of the clarinet

Lick behind my ear

No greater delight than to crash into a cloud

on my way to you.