Arab and Arab American Feminisms: Gender, Violence, and Belonging

27. The Memory of Your Hands Is a Rainbow

283 27 The Memory of Your Hands Is a Rainbow Amal Hassan Fadlalla Translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa1 Amal Hassan Fadlalla conceived this poem during Sudan’s two major political events: the conclusion of the peace agreement between Sudan’s Northern and Southern warring parties in 2005 and the escalation of the conflict in the Darfur region in western Sudan. Globally, the war in Iraq, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the 9/11 attacks, and other humanitarian crises continue to generate relentless politics of fear and despair. In the poem, a woman rises to open new windows of hope and to contemplate new meanings of liberty and freedom. Fadlalla dedicates this poem to women and men in Sudan and around the globe who are fighting against the odds to make this dream come true. 284 | Home and Homelands ~.YJ uJ.}1 jwo uk u,.,Ull (y..J ~~&l~I~~~ "~yo:i4 ~1 J..lW lfi-yo:i4 ~\ " ~~~ l~ l~ ~W\ 0..EY~:!J The Memory of Your Hands Is a Rainbow | 285 My beloved is tall the color of stars the color of plains, and when my beloved surges the fires of the north and south are doused a flower is born from the sunset’s mouth, kisses the brow of sunrise, and when my beloved floods ~y.yU\~ Ijlyc. )~ 'l..;1 c..ulot.. J,;t.. ' • ...'i.....i .;t,...., J.."' ..,:;J.? .....4.11 ~ J,.:.I) 'Y..J.J~.J o\...o::,l....::,..J l5..l..:o.::U .,.s,.& t.J~ ~J ";'.J.,II -....J\1J1 w,ll J;".b~ ";'.J"JI -....J\1J1 w,ll ~.J.J "".J"JI "",WI w,ll 286 | Home and Homelands the heads of those who steal children’s happiness bend and the epoch of war ends and the time of those who do not laugh who do not cook who do not feed and who feel no dread when they kill? ends, and when my beloved melts in my hand the world gives birth to a thousand books and a thousand new women women the color of ebony and wheat pregnant with history with authority that divides lotus berries among the poor naked women, naked clothed naked clothed naked dancing on the streets of Boston “al-lawl, al-lawl ya lawlia they’ll bewitch you my Ethiopian beauty” and they liberate America and they plant a seed of Karbala and Mustafa Siyyid Ahmad sings “my girl will soon come the girl—the garden will soon come” My love is a big child. I birthed it with my mouth, and my grandmother ululated seven times and planted in his hands three date palms one in the right and two in the left, and my young sister sang “that green one is my green I’ll hide him, not to be seen.” She released many sparrows bearing the rainbow’s colors The Memory of Your Hands Is a Rainbow | 287 and the nation became one, the nation united, then scattered and the people stepped out, chanting Laubaik laka Laubaik? We heard, here we come “Penicillin O headnurse, call out the doctor O headnurse” Laubaik laka Laubaik and they drank water purer than pure, and they danced “Let that diesel engine work It’s working that diesel train Let that diesel engine work,” and they fall in love on the street and they make love in Maukwar, Maukwar, its address of justice and freedom. Sweet and generous Nile? sweet and branched out for miles wash my features with your water, release my wings and my hands, scatter my history with your rain, in the heart of the West Bank, break my bracelets and my chains, turn me into a sandalwood powder rubbed in a kaffiyeh for Rachel under the tank facing a bullet and a platoon and open a Mexican street for the girl going out to her shift. for the girl going out on her shift ...