Very Short Stories (part-2)

Very Short Stories/ Yahya Assamawi
Translated by: Freeyad Ibrahim (Zabarjad)

(1)
Twenty years ago...my child screamed in surprise:
Baba ...I see just one white hair in your blond beard
Twenty years later ... she herself yelled astonished
O! My father ...I see only a single blond hair in your white beard!
************************************

(2)
, I asked my spiritual guide, my sheikh,the Time::
The apes leap from one tree to another in search of fruit...and the politicians leave one party and move to another looking for positions .
So do the positions and posts have got the shape of the tree
: He answered me?!
Ney... but some politicians of the time have got the nature of apes!

*******************************************

(3 )
When the long longing for the homeland burdened him
he mounted his own soul, and towards the border he fled.
Over the border dirt he spread his own shirt,
Beseeching the escapees to shake off over it
the dust clinging to their feet.
Backfired he came back without his shirt
for it had been made bandaging tapes
for the wounds of their feet
ulcerated
by the homeland barbed wires
When they penetrated
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(4)
A cloud wept , and the grass laughed, and the trees danced .
A pen cried .. so the paper laughed and the lines frisked.
The waterwheel screeched... the creek laughed and the pigeons cooed
The men wept... and then the homeland went lost!



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(5)
When the king passed through the crowd mounting his horse,
he became overwhelmed with vainglory and pride while hearing
.. roaring of applause
He was quite unaware of the fact that the crowd was clapping just to show their awe and admiration for the horse’s strength
how it could carry such a mountain of sins !

****************************************

(6)
She: what does love mean?
He: it means sacrifice, my sweetheart
She: and are you ready to sacrifice for my sake, my darling ?
He: yes, of course.
She: if you are honest , then get me introduced to the owner of the bank who you work for .

*******************************************

( 7)
Solely- like a she-camel tamed and mild
He sat by the hems of the sea…
And like a tender mother combing the braids of her she- child,
Conducted the winds
Combing the sea water
parting it in waves shaped as braids
running as white butterflies each
fluttering, flickering
and stroking with their wings
the sandy beach
He waved his hand towards the distant horizon
A passerby asked him
Do you wave to something you see but I can’t ?
“Yes, I wave to a straying wave. ”
He said with a pant.
*************************************************

(8)
The secrete gendarme (police) broke into his house
in one midnight
His sister jumped into
the roof of the neighbour’s house
like a wild doe,
with all her might.
For fear that they might weave
a hanging noose from her plait
lying for the neck of a gazelle in wait
And when his mother set his collection of poems on fire
and heaved a sigh, dour and dire,
with ire,
a white smoke, rose,
White like bukhuur, incense, at the prayer’s alcove,
On that day he began to learn
That the verses written with homeland water
on the riverbank grass serving as paper,
turn ,
into
incense ,
when
they
burn!
*****************************************************
(9)
The student:
Why are the salaries of our parliamentarians higher than that earned by the parliamentarians all over the world?
The teacher:
That is because Their Excellencies receive monthly allowances,
for their residency outside the country.
Whereas their counterparts from the whole world ,
Inside their homes ,
Take their residence!
************************
Translated by:
Freeyad Ibrahim Al- Zabarjad) Aquamarine )
Netherlands-Holland

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