translated from the Maltese by Ruth Ward
I’m a stone but at night I turn into a woman:
A face is born, arms and a pair of legs.
I go forth in the dark, as I need no light to make my way—
which I know well: through the breath
I exhale, inhale; the breath that
moves, moves me, lifts me
to that summit where no one approaches.
I alone can reach this place,
as only I can see it.
Ġebla
Jien ġebla, ’mma billejl ninbidel f’mara:
jitwieled wiċċ, dirgħajn u par riġlejn;
nimxi fid-dlam—m’għandix bżonn dawl biex nimxi
triqti magħrufa minn ġewwa—bin-nifs
li niġbed, bin-nifs li narmi, bin-nifs
li jiċċaqlaq, li jċaqlaqni, jeħodni
lejn dak l-imkien fejn ħadd aktar ma jersaq.
Jien biss nifhem dal-post għax jien biss nagħrfu.
Copyright © 2025 by Immanuel Mifsud. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 10, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
