We present this work in honor of the Moroccan holiday, Enthronement.

 

Poetry will be your dress
when you yield your soul
back to its maker
You’ll strike down your enemies
through mortal silence
and the language assassinated
under your fingers
With it you’ll tattoo
the snout of the good-for-nothings
and you’ll bring down the sphinx a peg or two

Translation by Pierre Joris