TWILIGHT
The winds are still blowing
It’s so cold inside. When will
You come, Maïrama, fresh and hot
With your light silk cloth,
Pierced and transpiercing?
The light with the coming twilight
Is dying out while singing birds
Are getting weary and weary.
The night’s dripping black and
It’s so thick inside. Who’ll
Hold me tight and heat
My crawling bones and blood
While you’re away oft reading
Oft serving some master?
Think twice else life will be unfair,
A heavy burden to overthrow.
Douala, 2012
JAAFAR SADIG EL WAAD
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