International Translation Day reminds us how words travel beyond borders.
This week, Slemani UNESCO City of Literature is joining hands with 13 other Cities of Literature to share poetry each day in three forms: the poet’s original language, English, and Kurdish.
Through this exchange, we celebrate not only literature itself, but also the bridges that translation builds between cultures and communities.

This poem is by Kajal Ahmad From Slemani UNESCO City of Literature:

(داخەکەم نامبینیت)

دنیای ئەو دیوو

پەنجەرەی ژیانی ئێستام

تا چاوبڕكات 

هەر داری زەیتوون وتەمه.

مەخابن نامبینیت

کاتێ زەیتون ئەتەکێنم لەپایزدا و

دوای شتنەوەی به ئەشكی غەریبیم

ئاوی لیمۆی ئازارمی لێدەپرژێنم

ئینجا خوێی زبری سەفەری پیادەكەم و

لەشووشەیەكی رووناك و 

بێڕتووشی وەكو دڵما دایدەنێم.

دەستی شكاوم نامبینی…

چۆن لەگەڵ درەختەكانا

دەوەرێم و گوڵده گرم

یان گوڵده گرم و دەوەرێم!

كه لەگەڵ باڵندەكانا

لەدایك دەبم و باڵدەگرم،

لەبەرزاییەوه دەكەوم 

یان لەنزماییەوه دەفڕم.

داخەكەم نازانیت

كه لەگەڵ یادی یارێکی

دڵڕەقی وەك نیشتمانا

چەند عیسامییانه دەژیم و

وەكو سوبێری بیابان

.چۆن دڕكی دڵشكان دەگرم

English translation:

Translated by by Alana Marie Levinson Labrosse

Ah, You Don’t See Me

The other world through the window

of my current life is olive trees

and fog as far as the eyes can see.

Sadly, you don’t see me, even

when I sweep olives from the trees

in autumn, even after I wash

them with exile,

sprinkle them with lemon water

and rock salt, season

them with my pain and journey,

even when I place those olives

in a clean, translucent jar

you don’t see me. My hands break.

You don’t see how, with the trees,

I go bare and blossom,

blossom and go bare.

When I become a bird,

and grow wings, I will

either fall from above, or

fly from below.

Ah, you don’t know:

with a lover as ruthless

as my homeland

I live untouched.

Like a cactus

I grow thorns

from heartbreak.