Killing Time by Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi

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Here a stone is King,

the Queen, a pebble

 

When there’s time to kill,

coins become trinkets

hoarded in vases

and commanders make war

Killing time

by scattering the heads

of one king after the next

they fall for ingots of time

 

When the final hole is taken

by stone or pebble –

by a sacrifice or an offering –

then the game is up

Your lot

is that vacant hole

Your dowry,

the mystery of a metaphor

 

In the end there is a stone, aching for its cave

a pebble, longing for the riverbank

In the end, an abandoned earthenware pot

repository of enigmas

But that’s just a game –

reality is a crippled king

and a crown that straddles the abyss