you who are unique as the Song of Songs

I salute you, 

you who draws life 

from a single root 

with the night as your watchdog. 

Your rustlings have the splendor of words 

and the supremacy of cataclysms. 

I know you, 

you who are 

hospitable of memory; 

you wear grief of the living 

because this side of time is time as well. 

I spell your name 

you who are 

unique as the Song of Songs. 

A great cold enfolds you, 

and heaven itself is in reach of your branches. 

I defy you, 

you who while in our mountains 

so that we hear the sounds in our blood. 

Today, which is yesterday’s tomorrow, 

crosses your forms like a setting star. 

I love you, 

you who depart with the wind as your banner 

I love you as man love breath. 

You are the first poem.

listen to it here

[Nadia Tuéni {1935-1983} 'Cedars' {trans. from the French by Samuel Hazo}, from Language for a New Century: Contemporary Poetry from the Middle East, Asia, and Beyond]