Look well inside it, the sun and the moon,
The waves of the sea, the shores and the storms,
The rooster at war will you find, and bellwether,
Guarded and kept by a flute-playing shepherd.
There you’ll encounter a comb and some water,
Toothbrush and razor within its walls, too,
Laces for boots and buttons for blouses,
Needle and thread have their place and venue.
Look well inside it, there’s song and there’s silence,
Nettles and hawthorn and bitter crab apples,
And you will hear surly shouts and deep sighs there,
All of them minded and watched by dead quiet.
In it you’ll meet all your years and your errors,
Hatred and love there with each of your struggles,
The wolf and the fox, the cries and the oak trees,
All of them stored undefiled by your memory.
Outside is time, all the days, months and years which you
Count to yourself using toes, using digits,
Counting till teeth and your fingernails fall out,
Tallying each till your beard’s fathoms long.
*SABRi Hamiti via translations