Levant Yassine

In their own words

The poem as reproduced in the exhibition booklet.

God, why the mistrust of
a soul within your fist?
Of a promise left unsure
along the western shores,
As I was searching for
a sign gazing at my palm
I wondered..
why a child born yesterday
is in short for luck?
She was just pulled out
of water, while her mother
was busy, watching the clock.
“A long way is still ahead.”
She whispered.
“I don’t blame Odysseus.”, I said,
for I have a boat of my own,
and for 20 years, I’ve been
chasing silhouettes.
Standing at the prow, I ponder.
What kind of a sailor leaves
home with no destination
nor victuals?
But I felt no hunger.
Through the darkness, I found
an empty bucket.
I picked it up while god was
watching in silence,
and now..
my bucket is filled with anger.
“It wasn’t me who killed the old
lady!” I shouted.
And as I felt the weapon
swinging on the side of
my jacket, with guilt added
to my bucket,
I saw a land.
A man holding a lamp,
waving for me to land,
“The thousand nights are over
there’s still one to go.
and from now on,
you’ll be Shahrazad” he said
I took the lamp and walked on
thinking of the remaining
night,
leaving everything behind
— Levant Yassine