The martyr couldn't believe his eyes when his tomb was bombed as he braided a garland for his beloved— a red garland, yet...on the way to heaven ... it turned white. He bent toward the water with a small rainbow clutched in his hand. In this way he makes music. He lifts is hands to the clouds and braids her tears into a flower. In this way he sings. A wave breaking outside the sea. In this way I go on.
From Diary of a Wave Outside the Sea, by Dunya Mikhail, translated from the Arabic by Elizabeth Winslow. Copyright © 2009. Used by permission of New Directions. All rights reserved.