I was born
A little before my due date
On the night when controversy raged
About everything
A release conditional on obeying the terms
I was born deceived and still am deceived
At the moment when Satan was drinking a toast to his third victory
On the night when knives were being sharpened
I was born
With a memory sewn together with a needle and thread
Full grown in a way
With ideas liable to change
With an arm not up to armed combat
With a soul where anxiety has taken root
With a mouth that stammers when it speaks
And a compound name with no links to modernity
And a heart open to all possibilities
I was born
By divine decree
In the alleys
Of the third world
Following Plan B
In a somewhat primitive way
In the clinic of a midwife who didn’t believe in fate
I was born in installments
With this body liberated
.From the womb that kept trying to abort it
Translated into English
by Catherine Cobham
Syrian poet and essayist. Currently lives in Berlin, Germany.