تكات الخريف ..بالإنجليزية .. صابرين الصباغ

[صابرين الصباغ]

تكات الخريف _صابرين الصباغ

ترجمـة د. أحـمـد الـليـثـي

In the heart of the night, I hear "tick, tock". Faint thuds that resemble the pitter-patter of the raindrops when falling on my window. But, we are yet not in winter. This is still August.

I try to listen very attentively. All I hear are the same unchanging ticks. Perhaps, they are coming from that noisy clock, which sleeps during the day to come back to life only at night. It starts muttering to itself when the night falls.

I get off my bed; remove the batteries and breathe a sigh of relief saying to myself "I can now sleep undisturbed".

As soon as I close my eyes, the ticking sound returns to fill the silence. Tick, Tock … I look at the clock. It is dead!

I pile the pillows above my head, but in vain. The same sound manages to sneak through them to hit my tired ears. I remove the covers and start tracing the source of the sound.

In the kitchen I check that usually annoying tap. I think perhaps it is scared of the dark and when the night comes it starts to sweat making that annoying noise. But, it is stone dry. It is neither sweating, nor salivating …

I continue my search journey towards the source.

The sound gets louder as I get nearer to my old chair, my life-long companion.
I hear the thumping getting louder and louder.
There you are. I stroke the back of the chair, and talk to it in a gentle tone.
I remember the day I bought you. You were young and fresh. You used to shine proudly among the rest of the furniture pieces. You were a true show-off.

But, alas! Now, the termites have found their way to your bones taking you to your last moments.
Well, pardon me, my dear old friend. I cannot keep your company any longer. The rest of the furniture may catch your disease.

I throw my life-long companion out of the window, lament its departure, and wait to find that the thudding sound has ceased. So, with that I turn off my lights …

I rush to my bed at last. Moments later, I hear tick … tock