THE ALPHABET

M. B. U. Z. TRANSLATED FROM BOSNIAN BY EDIN HAJDARPAŠIĆ

Art by Tim Peters

                              ا 

 

Alif—all intent, the letter draws near,
Come closer, my dear.
So I can teach alif to you:
You are slender, like a staff,
You are the warp, and the weft!

 

                              ب‎ 

 

Ba—is the moon, beneath the dot:
You are the crescent, I am the dot.
The light of the moon,
The warmth of the dot,
You are both, you are ba.

 

                              ت 

 

Ta—Fata is your name,
Your golden chest,
That chest now mine.
Were someone to steal you away,
Purest gold to them I’d pay.

 

                              ث 

 

Se—is sevap, let me teach you:
A good deed, for me, sweet agony;
I teach you se, your face I see.
May women who blaspheme you
Lose their souls too.

 

                              ج

 

Jeem—jamii, of Turkish fame,
And I am Fejzo, that’s my name—
Last night’s letters to you I gave,
And now this jeem you can claim.

 

                              ح 

 

Ha—half ill when I see you
And mad when I don’t.
Show yourself so I see you!
Grant this disciple what he adores—
Ha will instantly be yours.

 

                              خ 

 

Heh—Help, do some good, come to me,
Your mother won’t know, we’re free;
And if she does find out
Stay, my child, with me.

 

                              د 

 

Dal—Dare not strike you,
I’d weep all night and day.
Dal—I wouldn’t dare, my doll,
It would pierce my very soul.

 

                              ذ

 

Zal—that is Fata’s crooked strap
On its top a rounded cap.
You’re the sweetest duck in town
There’s honey beneath your down.

 

                              ر

 

Ra—is like a little hook,
And you’re my sugar pear.
Ra will hook the fruit mid-air;
Then this disciple, in despair— 
Will devour the sugar pear.

 

                              ز

 

Za—and zal are similar
You’re the disciple’s gül dilber;
The disciple will take you home,
Henna will stay on till dawn.

 

                              س 

 

Seen—is like a golden rake: 
Sweeping you from your mother,
Writing you in my pages,
Embracing you in the pillows.

 

                              ش 

 

Sheen—sugary šećer of mine.
What use is henna and dye
When everyone knows you’re mine?
Shielded with my sheen,
Seen among the stars,
In a garden, tended by me.

 

                              ص 

 

Saat—is your hair in a braid.
Tell your disciple, my dear rose,
When will a burek be made?

 

                              ض 

 

Daat—and saat are two brothers,
But daat has a dot. 
Within it, a scroll turns:
It is for you my heart yearns.

 

                              ط 

 

Te—is a fir tree, shaped like you,
It leans on your disciple;
He holds you round the waist—
With your love he will be graced.

 

                              ظ 

 

Ze—ziyan, it spells injury.
Flee, my dear, come to me!
I will teach you letters:
Ze is just like Te,
But it has a dot above,
Which says—it’s you I love.

 

                              ع 

 

Ayn—is plain, to learn it a good deed;
Who doesn’t learn it —kijamet!—
Your hand is what I need,
You will be greeted with Selamet!

 

                              غ 

 

Ghayn—and ayn, two groomsmen,
Ghayn, on its head rests a kulah hat,
About our wedding it wants to chat.

 

                              ف 

 

Fe—is our namesake:
I am Fejzo, and you Fata,
Jalla shanahu, we’re tied by fe!
It’s easy to remember:
A dot above, a twist below,
Run to me, your aunt won’t know.

 

                              ق 

 

Kaf—is like our fe.
On its head two eyes,
Gazing sweetly at you,
Sweeter still at yours true.

 

                              ك 

 

Kef—looks like a spade hoe.
With this hoe, I’ll dig my grave,
Either happiness with you I will find,
Or I’ll lie down in the cold ground.

 

                              ل 

 

Lam—is like an ox’s yoke;
Let us find a carriage,
To escape across the meadows,
And plant our seeds with lam.
You’ll be the flower first in bloom,
And I’ll be weak from your perfume.

 

                              م 

 

Miim—a tadpole is its form,
But my Fata? This is her form: 
In her hair are tassels,
Her black eyes shine like jewels,
Alive with flames,
Searing what they touch.

 

                              ن 

 

Noon—is a bowl of sharbat,
A golden dot floats above it.
My boat will set sail there,
A golden fairy to ensnare.

 

                              و 

 

Vav, you see, is slightly bent,
Like an old man, his life all spent,
Who now stares at you and I:
Vav sends forth a prayer on high,
Asking for God’s blessings.

 

                              ھ 

 

He—hell-bent they dare call me,
Saying last night I stole you away.
Were I to steal you away, my light,
A happy hajduk I would be,
From Sharia I wouldn’t flee.

 

                              لا 

 

Lam-elif is a pair of shears
That cuts the mother’s golden cord 
So your disciple’s neck can be adorned.
Let him  enjoy pain sweet,
And teach your daughter lam-elif.

 

                              ي 

 

Ye—yellow flame, sparks fly;
My dearest  flint,
You start my fire.
These sparks that dart
Strike your disciple’s heart.