Tale of the resistant apple tree
High above him
the sky is awakened by military planes
storm and thunder
He hears of war and inflation
speculation and high prices
The world shattered like a pomegranate
its grains blood-red
The powerful want to expand their empire
The weak go to sea and are shipwrecked
he hears talk of global warming
shale gas fossil fuels oil and blackmail
forest fires going up in smoke burning houses
tornadoes, cyclones, earthquakes
wheat rotting in ports
mountains losing their snow
of glaciers that crumble and wander
of rising seas that advance and eat the earth
of cliffs that erode springs that dry up
rivers that run dry rivers diverted seas that disappear
bears dying of hunger
whales that wash ashore
of wolves approaching cities
The powerful barricade themselves, build walls
raise towers of silver
The weak cross the desert and are put in camps
sleep under the stars and take cover of night
pay their dues to the new bloods
He like a child
planted an apple seed at his window
There it grows
he sees his apple tree grow
greets it every day
protects it from wind, hail and storm
the drought and the noise of the world
The apple tree grows and takes root
its leaves are green its stem is stronger
he talks to the apple tree asks it if it’s thirsty
whether it needs shade or sun
if it’s in good company
He can’t leave it abandoned
he takes it to his land in its soil
asks for it to be planted elsewhere
to be looked after
in a land that’s bigger and fuller
If it stays alive
call it the Resistant
he says …
Conte du pommier résistant
Par-dessus lui
Le ciel est réveillé par les avions militaires
L’orage et le tonnerre
Il entend parler de guerre d’inflation
De spéculation et de vie chère
Le monde éclaté comme une grenade
Ses grains rouge-sang
Les puissants veulent agrandir leur empire
Les faibles partent en mer et font naufrage
Il entend parler de réchauffement climatique
De gaz de schiste d’énergie fossile de pétrole et de chantage
D’incendies de forêts parties en fumée de maison qui brûle
De tornades de cyclones de tremblements de terre
De blés qui moisissent dans les ports
De montagnes qui perdent leurs neiges
De glaciers qui s’effritent qui errent
De mer qui s’élève qui avance qui mange la terre
De falaises qui s’érodent de sources qui tarissent
De fleuves à sec de fleuves détournés dérobés de mers disparues
D’ours qui meurent de faim
De baleines qui échouent sur les rivages
De loups qui s’approchent des villes
Les puissants eux se barricadent construisent des murs t
Elèvent des tours d’argent
Les faibles font la traversée du désert sont mis dans des camps
Dorment à la belle étoile se couvrent de la nuit
Payent leur dû aux nouveaux sang-sus
Lui comme un enfant
Plante une graine de pommier à sa fenêtre
La voilà qui pousse
Il voit grandir son pommier
Le salue chaque jour
Le protège contre le vent la grêle et la tempête
La sècheresse et le fracas du monde
Le pommier pousse s’enracine
Ses feuilles sont vertes sa tige plus solide
Il parle au pommier lui demande s’il a soif
S’il a besoin d’ombre ou de soleil
S’il est bien entouré en bonne compagnie
Il ne peut le laisser à l’abandon
Il l’emmène dans sa terre avec sa terre
Demande qu’on le plante ailleurs
Qu’on veille sur lui
Dans une terre plus grande plus épanouie
S’il se maintient en vie
Appelez-le le Résistant
Dit-il …
Translator’s Statement
There is a two-fold challenge when it comes to translating Tahar Bekri. First of all, his wording is both very concise and elliptic with linguistic juxtapositions and hidden ‘silences’ that leave the reader having to work hard to find their way in, yet the sounds and repetition are excellent guides. Rendering his style into English means ultimately focusing on the latter aspect and sticking close to the source-language syntax, rather than, as often the case translating into English, reformulating the text into a target-language syntax and making it explicit. Secondly, there are many metaphors to transpose most often related to the desert, and the vegetation of North and sub-Saharan Africa primarily, but by no means exclusively. Paris became Tahar’s refuge and home port. The recurrence of this metaphor and the terms of the voyage, essentially maritime, in his poetry mark all the stages of his itinerary of discovery and encounter. The challenge has been to express the poet’s sensitivity to the beauty of the primary elements, the sea and the ocean above all, metaphors for freedom, then the sky and the harshness of the earth. The paradigm of exile takes shape, in verse: separation, nostalgic memory of the lost land, suffering and compensatory words. These aspects have to be made evident. He is also very well versed in the history of Africa and the Arab World, as well as North African and Arabic literature throughout the centuries, so his work contains numerous references both explicit and implied to these writers and events such as the slave trade, and politics. These references are not just to past centuries but to moment and contemporary history. Indeed, this poem recounts the tumultuous period in Tunisia that Tahar Bekri lived through and was actively involved in, prior to his exile. These and later experiences underpin his views and form a sub-text to the work, in this case made explicit to the reader. I am fortunate in that I have known Tahar personally for many years, and translated his work over this same period so I can contact him for elucidation.
Tahar Bekri is a major figure in Tunisian and, more generally, North African poetry. Born at Gabès in Tunisia in 1951, he left Tunisia and its prisons in 1976 for Paris, where he has lived ever since. He writes in French and Arabic, and has published about thirty works (poetry, journals, essays, art books). His poetry has been translated into various languages and is the subject of academic works and artistic creations. Honorary Maître de Conférences at Université de Paris X-Nanterre. Benjamin Fondane International Award for Francophone literature, 2018; Prix de Rayonnement de la langue et de la littérature françaises, the Académie Française, 2019.
Patrick Williamson is an English poet and translator from French and Italian. He has edited, translated, or curated three selections of poetry from French-speaking Africa and the Arab World: The Parley Tree (an anthology, editor and co-translator, foreword by Tahar Bekri, Arc Publications, 2012), a supplement for online journal The High Window in 2022, and Turn Your Back on the Night (Antonym Collections, 2023). He has notably edited Tahar Bekri’s selected poems Saisons inconnues/Unknown Seasons (L’Harmattan 1999) and has translated his poems when requested.
