Poems

Find and share the perfect poems.

Poem of September 24

^{translated from the French by the author}

Who crosses into you when you cross

Who crosses when you don’t cross

Who doesn’t cross when you cross

Who crosses when you can’t cross

Who doesn’t cross when you don’t cross

Who doesn’t want to cross

Who thinks they’re crossing

Who doesn’t look at you while crossing

Who might take the time to look at you.

Poème du 24 septembre

Qui traverse en toi quand tu traverses

Qui traverse quand tu ne traverses pas

Qui ne traverse pas quand tu traverses

Qui traverse quand tu ne peux pas traverser

Qui ne traverse pas quand tu ne traverses pas

Qui ne veut pas traverser

Qui croit traverser

Qui ne te regarde pas en traversant

Qui prendra peut-être le temps de te regarder.

Samira Negrouche is a writer, poet, and translator whose work has been translated into more than twenty languages.

About Samira Negrouche

Themes

About this Poem

“Written with eight other [poems], forming nine poems of nine lines, this poem is part of a public installation called Signs/Promises. It can be read as a geopolitical statement or as an intimate whisper to yourself or to someone else. It is an invitation to question and envision all the layers of displacement that are required to be able to cross a border—real or symbolic—to meet another. It reminds us how fragile the understanding of another reality can be and why we should keep remembering it, especially when we think we are aware.”
—Samira Negrouche

Sign up for Poem-a-Day

More by this poet

Anna

^{translated from the French by Marilyn Hacker}

Anna the chair was overturned it’s after the end—whatever end—that we must readjust forgetting—paradise Anna sometimes has a taste of mouldy sun—when I think of the sun I want to think of Senac, of Amrouche, of Amrani—but when I think sun I want to think of the California sun, the one I’ve never seen—that mother-earth that nourishes you—and desire makes its place in what perhaps will happen, it doesn’t matter much if it happen

Samira Negrouche

2022

Minus One

Translated from the French by Marilyn Hacker

The outflow of your drifting—
up until now you’ve slid along the road

I would like
in a faraway language
to tell you what I don’t
understand 

**
Nothing pulls you back from doubt any longer
from obsession 
from seeding 
your body is amnesia   plural   futile   limpid
a disappearance
stands in for space
stands in for an emptiness
to circle round 

**
Not visible   the sense
slumbers teeters on the edge
you expect nothing of the hours
not the days returned 
not daybreak

Samira Negrouche

2019

Poems

Page submenu block

Poem of September 24

Poème du 24 septembre

More by this poet

Newsletter Sign Up