Shooting east and north from “Jericho Road”
“The Moon Did not Fall into the Well”
What are you doing, father?
I’m searching for my heart, which fell away that night.
Do you think you’ll find it here?
Where else am I going to find it? I bend to the ground and pick it up piece by piece just as the women of the fellahin pick up olives in October, one olive at a time.
But you’re picking up pebbles!
Doing that is a good exercise for memory and perception. Who knows? Maybe these pebbles are petrified pieces of my heart.
M. Darwish, trans. Ibrahim Muhawi