A Butterfly Crossing the Battlefield

I treaded the ground and heard it break
I leaned on the pain, biting down on it
so my scream wouldn’t scatter.

The house became afraid,
if its paintings tilted on the walls,
and no one noticed except me.

And just as the road is afraid
when the patience of its stones runs out,
the locks are afraid too, so they rust.

Like them, the garden statue was afraid
and disappeared into the night.

And like them, I fear the harvest
if it’s not from the planting of my hands.

Ahmed Al-Mulla – Saudi Arabia

From (What an enormous day) – Rewayat Publishing – 2024

Translated from Arabic: Adel Khozam – UAE