Fatih, by Rita Amabili

Fatih

Poem by Rita Amabili, author

Translation in English by Enzo Martinelli

 

Devant les décombres répandus, une porte tient difficilement debout.
La voyant, chacun sait qu’elle tombera probablement avant la fin du jour.
Fatih la traverse péniblement, espérant qu’il basculera dans un autre univers,
Un autre monde que celui brisé, effondré, démantelé où il doit abandonner…

Le soleil cachera bientôt ses derniers vrais rayons. Un cri a fendu l’air, 
Fatih a senti son cœur se projeter hors de sa poitrine. L’averse a laissé sur le sol
De lourdes flaques bleutées qui coulent en larmes multiples, étonnées des sillons
Se créant, impromptus, vers un autre monde que celui où il doit abandonner…

Des silhouettes s’affairent. Fatih ne peut savoir à quoi, ils sont hors de portée.
M’entends-tu Fatih, je te demande pardon de crier à tous vents depuis longtemps
Sans avoir su te protéger, ni ta sœur, ni ta sœur… Un rendez-vous chez la coiffeuse
A détourné mon attention. Ma fille a un microbe et je travaillerai demain.

Les mauvaises herbes s’amassent en tas sur mon terrain, empilées par les rafales.
Sur le journal sali, ton image m’obsède, l’empreinte de mon pied froisse le papier
Je suis en retard, le cocktail débutera avant mon arrivée. Fatih, Fatih, j’aurais voulu
Terminer mon chèque pour qu’il parte. Je relève mon col à l’instant même où…

Fatih cherche de la main un vêtement pour protéger son cou. Son index se plie
Pour attraper une encolure qu’il n’a pas. Et moi, je demeure pétrifiée.

À observer le sol. Sur l’asphalte, le papier journal plissé mêlé de pluie
Laisse soudain passer le visage de l’enfant et dans un clair-obscur, je le vois

Fatih, Fatih. Il est hors-temps. Celui du nous parfait. Nos yeux se rejoignent
Nos réalités s’immobilisent, indépendantes. La partie de moi qui pense à toi
S’émeut. Je sens mes larmes, mon corps tremble. J’ai le souffle court.
Je ne retiendrai de toi que ton regard, ton beau regard complètement aphone.

 

Je dois repasser ma robe. Je dois repasser ma robe. Le refrain monte sans préavis

Je me redresse, reviens à moi. Le demi-jour se tourne presque vers la nuit
Mes jambes reprennent leur marche vive et je me laisse porter indifférente.

Comme sonnée, comme suffoquée, je me laisse porter indifférente.

En un bruit sourd, la porte tombe. La nuit se prépare à jaillir sans étoile

Au cri que j’ai retenu, Fatih a senti son cœur se projeter hors de sa poitrine.

Le cocktail est commencé, j’ai refait mon maquillage et oublié mon chéquier.

Je repenserai à Fatih. Ou à un autre exactement comme lui. Il le faut bien.

 

©ritaamabili.com


Fatih

In front of the widespread rubble, a door can hardly stand up.

Seeing her, everyone knows that she will probably fall before the end of the day.

Fatih crosses it painfully, hoping that he will switch to another universe,

A world other than the one broken, collapsed, dismantled where he must give up…

The sun will soon hide its last true rays. A cry split the air,

Fatih felt his heart project itself out of his chest. The shower left on the ground

Heavy blueish puddles that flow into multiple tears, surprised by the furrows

Creating, impromptu, towards a world other than the one where he must give up…

Silhouettes are busy. Fatih can’t know what, they are out of reach.

Do you hear me Fatih, I apologise for shouting to all winds for a long time

Without having been able to protect you, neither your sister nor your sister… An appointment with the hairdresser

Diverted my attention. My daughter has a microbe and I will work tomorrow.

Weeds are piling up in heaps on my land, stacked by gusts.

On the dirty newspaper, your image obsesses me, the imprint of my foot crumples the paper

I’m late, the cocktail will start before my arrival. Fatih, Fatih, I would have liked to

Finish my check so that he can leave. I lift my collar at the very moment…

Fatih is looking for a garment with his hand to protect his neck. His index finger bends

To catch a neckline that he doesn’t have. And I remain petrified.

To observe the ground. On the asphalt, the pleated newsprint mixed with rain

Suddenly let the child’s face pass and in a chiaroscuro, I see him

Fatih, Fatih. He’s out of time. That of the perfect us. Our eyes meet

Our realities are immobilising, independent. The part of me that thinks of you

Is moved. I feel my tears, my body is shaking. I’m short of breath.

I will only remember your look from you, your beautiful look completely aphone.

I have to iron my dress. I have to iron my dress. The chorus goes up without notice

I stand up, come back to me. The half-day is almost turning towards the night

My legs resume their lively walk and I let myself be carried indifferent.

As sounded, as suffocated, I let myself be carried indifferent.

In a dull noise, the door falls. The night is getting ready to spring without a star

At the cry I held back, Fatih felt his heart project out of his chest.

The cocktail has begun, I redone my makeup and forgot my checkbook.

I will think about Fatih. Or to another exactly like him. You have to.

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