[Translated by Rana Bitar and Robert Bensen]

I take thousands of trains
and I ride my tragedy
I ride the cloud of my cigarette
I carry in my only one suitcase
the addresses of my lovers
who were once my lovers
The train runs fast fast
and chews up on its way the flesh of distances
devours the orchids on its way
devours the trees on its way
licks the feet of lakes
The train’s conductor asks me about my ticket
and my next stop—
is there another stop?

The hotels of the world don’t know me
or the addresses of my lovers
There is no sidewalk I go to on my trips
My sidewalks are all running away from me
My sidewalks are all running away from me

Photo by Og Mpango from Pexels