In her absence I created her image: out of the earthly the hidden heavenly commences.

In Her Absence I Created Her Image

by Mahmoud Darwish

Translated by Fady Joudah

In her absence I created her image: out of the earthly

the hidden heavenly commences. I am here weighing

the expanse with the Jahili odes ... and absence

is the guide, it is the guide. For each rhyme a tent

is pitched. And for each thing blowing in the wind

a rhyme. Absence teaches me its lesson: If it weren’t

for the mirage you wouldn’t have been steadfast ...

Then in the emptiness, I disassembled a letter from one

of the ancient alphabets, and I leaned on absence. So who am I

after the visitation? A bird, or a passerby amid the symbols

and the memory vendors? As if I were an antique piece,

as if I were a ghost sneaking in from Yabous, telling myself:

Let’s go to the seven hills. Then I placed

my mask on a stone, and walked as the sleepless

walk, led by my dream. And from one moon

to another I leapt. There is enough of unconsciousness

to liberate things from their history. And there

is enough of history to liberate unconsciousness

from its ascension. Take me to our early

years—my first girlfriend says. Leave

the windows open for the house sparrow to enter

your dream—I say ... then I awaken, and no city is in

the city. No “here” except “there.” And no there

but here. If it weren’t for the mirage

I wouldn’t have walked to the seven hills ...

if it weren’t for the mirage!