I Yield My Days
by Adonis
I yield my days to an identity
rising and falling under my vessel
and I dig, in my eyes, my grave.
I am lord of the phantoms I grant them
my sex and yesterday I granted them my language
And I cried out to History, defeated
Stumbling, I tripped over my lips
And I cried out to the terror that burns
up the green trees in my lungs.
I am lord of the phantoms I hit them
and urge them on in my blood and my throat
The sun is a grave and I throw at it
my lariat and the wind is my hat.
Translated with the help of Mirene Ghossein
