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Gods Rainbow!


Nazih Abu-Afash


A lonely tree of suffering is man,

Sad, naked, swimming in a naked air!

Oh Lord, if I were a tree a real tree,

Laughing, swimming, dreaming, and never saying: Make me.

: Trees cannot be made.

Trees dream only.

Trees rise on their own shoulders,

Drink from their own springs,

And dream their own immortalities

: Trees are the immortality of trees.


Trees are immortality without memory.

Memory is the cemetery of life,

A cemetery badly furnished,

Full of men, lifetimes, coffins,

Passageways, and closed windows!

Therefore, o Lord, save me in a cleansed memory.

Save me in the memory of a tree-heart.

Save me well and long

In the salted water of your affection: oblivion.


If you really believe in me, o God,

Tell themmy loved onesto burry me on the edge:

The edge of time and the edge of space.

I have an exalted craving to be immortal on an edge

A craving for a beautiful, affectionate, bountiful, and white death.

The craving of a dead man:

A white craving for death!

Erase me then.

If you really believe in me

Erase me for good, o God,

Erase the leaves, the boughs, the trunk, and the brain

Erase the earth also: the house of death, the earth;

Erase all theseand mealtogether,

But spare me my rootthe root of bountiful suffering,

Sparkling in its own darkness.

Let itmy root

Carry on its stumbling journey in the air of light.

Let it dream of a fruit of light,

A leaf of light,

And a blast of light

: Let it dream of light.


The fruit is white,

The bough is white,

Leaves are white,

The trunk is white,

Dreams are white

The air, soil, water, blueness, and darkness also: all is white!

I am the son of whiteness.

Therefore many are my colors, sparkling, shining, and envied.

I am Gods rainbow

                        The inexhaustible treasury of beauty.

I am the curlews dream.


Make me then, o God, a root,

Which hangs down, ascending

In the air of white skies.

Make me white

White with all colors.

I am your son, pilgrim, denier, and the son of your affection,

The heir of your repentance, your martyr, and the servant of your oblivion

Make me then

Your door is lifted on a word;

Mine also.

Both of us, when passing across, bend

Both of us say: I weakened, suffered, despaired,

Endured, regretted, and my soul arched!

Only the word thus remains:

High, upright, far-reaching

And alive (alive in the curlews delight)

: The word is a goddess heard (heard but not listened to!)

The word is the bond of our secret and plain blood,

The never-severed bond of times.

: We are both a voice of light.

Make me then


Make meif you willwhat you will, in whatever manner.

You may have regrets

As for me I have none.


Whiteness: what is never regretted.


I am your household, your table, your bread and wine,

Your endeavor, and the path of your truth

Therefore: do not fear the conspiracy of death.

You are immortal in what I see and dream of.

: Immortal in the whiteness of the curlews dream.


And I: my house wherein the curlews of my dawn chant,

Helping me in dream weaving.

My table is a song, is air, and a white craving for whiteness

Me is my endeavor.

I have no truth:

            Truth is whiteness!

Then, white and white.

White as you made me, as I loved and craved.

I am all white:

The skin of my beast, my horns, my blood, the longing of my curlews, my hooves, molars, heart, flippers, guns, my enemies fear, my bewilderment, the black of my eyes, my bones, garment, the thirst of my tongue, the darkness that I project while arching to pass across the gate (I arch to pass)

I am all, all white, and full of dreams of my whiteness

Therefore I have no fear of being defiled.

: Whiteness is real

Here I am reaching the edge!

Night of 30-31 December 2001

*** *** ***

Translated from Arabic by Dimitri Avghrinos


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