If I were told:

By evening you will die,

so what will you do until then?

I would look at the wristwatch,

drink a glass of juice,

bite an apple,

contemplate at length, an ant that has found its food,

then look at my wristwatch.

There’d be time left to shave my beard

and dive in a bath, obsess:

“There must be an adornment for writing,

so let it be a blue garment.”

I’d sit until noon alive at my desk

but wouldn’t see the trace of color in the words,

white, white, white….

I’d prepare my last lunch,

pour wine in two glasses: one for me

and one for the one who will come without appointment,

then I’d take a nap between two dreams.

But my snoring would wake me ….

So I’d look at my wristwatch:

and there’d be time left for reading.

I’d read a chapter in Dante and half a mu’allaqah

and see how my life goes from me

to the others, but I wouldn’t ask who

would fill what’s missing in it.

That’s it, then?

That’s it, that’s it. Then what?

Then I’d comb my hair and throw away the poem …

this poem, in the trash,

and put on the latest fashion in Italian shirts,

parade myself in an entourage of Spanish violins,

and walk to the grave!

Translated from the Arabic by Fady Joudah

What would you want to do if you had one day, one month, one year left? To contemplate death in the abstract can bring a certain amount of pensive musing, perhaps tinged with sadness or regret; but to contemplate death concretely can provoke a completely different reaction.

I like the choices made by Darwish – to eat an apple, watch an ant, bathe and dress. Then the decision of the last meal. He stills the mind enough to take a nap, read, write a poem – would it be a deathbed poem filled with insight as the Zen masters write? We will never know as he throws it away.

The only note of anxiety is the periodic checking of his watch. Will he have time for this or that before the end. And when that time runs out, he puts on an Italian shirt and walks to the grave with violins playing. What an exit! Like the hero going to his execution in the myths.

What would you chose if this was your last day?

Mahwmoud Darwish (1941 – 2008) was a beloved and popular poet in Palestine. He was politically active and after years of hardship left Israel and fled into exile in Lebannon. Among his accomplishments was the 1969 Lotus Prize and 30 compilations of poetry and prose. He later lived in Paris and was the editor of the Palestiniann literary review Al Karmel.