Translations
The way of houses
by Soukaina HabiballahTranslated from the Arabic by Robin Moger
We grow old
The way of houses.
At first, in the face, a small line
Which no one reads as lines. With time,
Cracks building.
Fearfully and rapidly the names
Gather their possessions from our heads and leave
A terrible void behind them.
Small rodents make the nests
They only leave when hungry
To gnaw at something in our chests.
They make a rustling and a scraping,
Intensifying with every breath.
We grow old
The way of houses.
In the end
Everyone can see we’re falling down.
You tell it in their hurrying, by
Their glance foreseeing ruin.
