منتخب شاعری

Cordova

(Translation by Muhammad Salim-ur-Rahman)


I wear no amour, I carry no sword,

as I make my way down Andalusia

through centuries of tears.


Nowhere to camp beneath the sky.

The magic and mystery of a journey

lasting eight hundred years.


I may, who knows, flower some day

at daybreak. Now I trek through a dark

where thorns and weeds prevail.