Featured Poem

Warning

Lovers of hunting,
and beginners seeking your prey:
Don’t aim your rifles
at my happiness,
which isn’t worth
the price of the bullet
(you’d waste on it).
What seems to you
so nimble and fine,
like a fawn,
and flees
every which way,
like a partridge,
isn’t happiness.
Trust me:
my happiness bears
no relation to happiness.

12.9.1988

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About the translation:
» Read translator's notes
Poet:
Taha Muhammad Ali
Translator:
Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, Gabriel Levin
Original language:
Arabic
Issue:
Series 3 No.8 - Getting it Across

About the author

Taha Muhammad Ali

Original poet

Taha Muhammad Ali

A charismatic personality and a writer of remarkable gifts, Taha Muhammad Ali has lived through the many stages of the Israeli...

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Translator

Peter Cole

Peter Cole's most recent book, The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poetry from Muslim and Christian Spain, 950-1492, was recently pub... » Read more

Translator

Yahya Hijazi

» Read more
Gabriel Levin

Translator

Gabriel Levin

Gabriel Levin was born in France, grew up in the United States, and has been living in Jerusalem since 1972. He has published t... » Read more

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