55: Yasmine, Robin, Mohieddin

Poem 55 from a correspondence in translations of Ibn Arabi’s Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, between Yasmine Seale and Robin Moger. The first two translations are made independently and each subsequent rendering written after the other’s previous version has been sent and seen.

Khusraw discovers Shirin bathing in a pool from a 16th-century Khamsa by Nizami. Source: Wikipedia


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Y(i)

 

Distance, and desire ruins me. To meet

is no relief. Come or go, desire hardly cares.

 

Meeting him, unreckoned

things happen. In place of healing,

another ache of longing.

 

Because to meet him is to see

a person whose beauty grows

ever more abundant, proud.

 

All I can do is match my love’s ascent

To his loveliness on its measured scale.

 

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Yasmine Seale Translates Aisha al-Qurtubiyya

On being proposed to by a male poet

The Guennol Lioness, Mesopotamia, third millennium BC. Source: Wikipedia

I am a lioness: never will I let

my being be the break

on another’s journey.

.

But if that were my choice

I would not answer

to a dog, for to O!

how many lions

am I deaf.

Robin Moger Does Dhu’r-Rummah

8th-century Umayyad tapestry fragment. Source: metmuseum.org

You know that home is come undone 

to nothing? Now  

thornbush and hollow

pieced in an unbroken plain 

as Spina sets receive its rains, 

first falls that pass and circle, 

fall again.

Yasmine Seale: A Poem by Dakhtanus bint Laqit

Six images of the Rub al Khali (Empty Quarter) by Stuart Franklin, 2008. Source: magnumphotos.com

He came early with the news:

the best of Khindif, full-grown

and young combined, is dead.

No one brought their enemies

more fear, nor saved so many

held captive. Their pearl. Excellent

in war, undaunted, always the one

to meet kings: it did them proud

when he spoke. His bloodline

was perfect: you could trace it

back, a column reaching all the way

to the tribe’s origin. As a bright star

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Robin Moger Does the Classics

Ibn Arabi

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Gleams lightning, thunder hymns

and down the rain pours where

it falls the hills and dells turn green

and flowers open in their fields.

.

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