I Didn’t Apologize to the Well by Mahmoud Darwish

I Didn’t Apologize to the Well

I didn’t apologize to the well when I passed the well, 

I borrowed from the ancient pine tree a cloud 

and squeezed it like an orange, then waited for a gazelle 

white and legendary. And I ordered my heart to be patient: 

Be neutral as if you were not of me! Right here 

the kind shepherds stood on air and evolved 

their flutes, then persuaded the mountain quail toward 

the snare. And right here I saddled a horse for flying toward 

my planets, then flew. And right here the priestess 

told me: Beware of the asphalt road and the cars 

and walk upon your exhalation. Right here 

I slackened my shadow and waited, I picked the tiniest 

rock and stayed up late. I broke the myth and I broke. 

And I circled the well until I flew from myself 

to what isn’t of it. A deep voice shouted at me: 

This grave isn’t your grave. So I apologized. 

I read verses from the wise holy book, and said 

to the unknown one in the well: Salaam upon you the day 

you were killed in the land of peace, and the day you rise 

from the darkness of the well alive! 

(Translated by Fady Joudah)