18.05.2024
Nizar Qabbani - امرأة تمشي في داخلي (Emr2a Tamshe Fe Da5le) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх
English
A woman walks inside me
1No one read my cup.
Unless you find out you're my girlfriend.
No one studied my handwriting.
Unless you find out your four letters.
Everything can be refuted.
Except for the smell of a woman we love.
Everything can be hidden.
Only the steps of a woman moving inside us.
Everything is debatable.
Except for your femininity.
2
Where do I hide you, my love?
We're two woods on fire.
And all the TV cameras are on us.
Where do I hide you, baby?
And all the reporters want to make you
The cover star.
And they make me a Greek hero.
And a scandal written.
3
Where do I get you?
Where are you going with me?
and all the coffee shops keep our faces by heart
And all the hotels keep our names by heart.
And all the sidewalks keep the music of our feet.
By heart.
We're exposed to the world as a balcony.
And visible as two gold fish.
In a crystal pot.
4
No one read my poems about you.
Only the sources of my language are known.
No one traveled in my books.
Unless he gets to the harbor of your eyes.
No one gave him my home address.
Unless you go to your lips.
No one opened my neighborhood.
Unless he finds you sleeping there like a bed.
And no one digs up my papers.
Unless he knew the history of your life.
5
Teach me
I'm holding you in the
t-tie.
And stop you from going out.
Teach me to draw around your breasts.
Circle with purple pen
And stop them from flying.
Teach me a way to arrest you as a point at the end of the line.
Teach me how to walk under the rain of your eyes. And I don't get wet.
And i smell your body full of Indian spices. And I don't get dizzy.
And i'm rolling from the towering heights of your breasts.
I don't get apart....
6
Take your hands off my little habits.
And my little things.
About the pen I'm writing in.
And the papers I'm scribbling on.
And the key relationship I'm holding.
And the coffee I'm having.
And the ties I'm getting.
Take your hands off my writing.
It doesn't make sense to write with your fingers.
And breathe your lungs.
It doesn't make sense to laugh with your lips.
And you cry with my eyes!!.
7
Sit with me for a while.
Let's reconsider my love map.
Harshly, a Mughal conqueror.
And the selfish woman wants to tell a man:
'Be. So it's ..'
Talk to me with democracy
The males of the tribe in my country.
They've mastered the game of political repression.
And I don't want you to practice with me.
The game of emotional repression.
8
Sit down until we see.
Where are the limits?
And where are the limits of my sorrows?
Where does your regional waters start?
And where does my blood end?
Sit down until we get along.
On any part of my body.
Your conquests will stop.
And at any hour of the night.
You're going to start your conquests?
9
Sit with me for a while.
Until we agree on a way of love.
Don't be in it.
And I don't have a small colony.
On your list of colonies.
That's still going on since the 17th century.
Your breasts demand liberation.
And they don't hear.
And they don't hear.
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