For this week’s Translation Tuesday, we bring you a poem by Egyptian writer Hoda AbdelKader Mahmoud, translated by Mohamed ElSawi Hassan and Jennifer Jean. Simultaneously delighted by the temerity of a young interlocutor and agonizing over her own age and childlessness, the unnamed narrator of this poem faces herself in the mirror and worries about her frown lines, takes pleasure in the perfect skirt, and feels a wash of nostalgia at the sound of an old song. Torn between comfort in her new identity—the Auntie!—and anxiety over her future, she finds solace in the memory of her own mother and female ancestors, with whom she shares a bond through time, and beyond age.
You are old, Auntie!
This phrase delights, then turns me to face the mirror.
My heart is obliged to follow, every time, and
I catch it red-handed, in a small panic.
I joke with it about the idea of wrinkles and sagging breasts.
My hormones are still the same from late childhood!
And the fact that aging does not come.
If it does, it confirms my beloved will never arrive,
and that Auntie will never be replaced with Mom.So, I nurture youthful contentment, count on heaven to calm my fear.
I face small, arrogant armies of my ancient boredom
with tangible and distant songs, all at once.
Then pat my crazy cat who deliberately ignores my grieving.
You are old, Auntie!
I am still pleased with the buff of breezes from the window of each bus
when I try to tease loved ones as a person with two braids and a pleated skirt
that lights up my legs!
Wrinkles on my face are especially costly, relentless.
They show the endless times I’ve smiled and frowned,
the stolen looks between me and my beloved.
I fade whenever I hear Pink Floyd songs,
and the Fairouz song “Ya reit” (I wish!) makes me hold back.
But my vast darkness is lit with memories of my mother’s hand
and the smiles of my two aunts.
I will wait for dawn to recite a special prayer,
the one they will hear with gratitude
and stretch their eyes towards, towards my little cage with the key.
Then, I’ll laugh.
Translated from the Arabic by Jennifer Jean and Mohamed ElSawi Hassan
Hoda AbdelKader Mahmoud is a poet from Egypt. Her poems appear in Other Paths for Shahrazad: a Bilingual Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Arab Women (Tupelo 2026).
Mohamed ElSawi Hassan is a senior lecturer at the Dept. of Asian Languages and Civilizations at Amherst College. He has co-translated African Folklore: An Encyclopedia into Arabic, and is an associate editor of Other Paths for Shahrazad: a Bilingual Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Arab Women (Tupelo 2026).
Jennifer Jean is a poet and translator from America. Along with Hanaa Ahmad Jabr, she is the author of the bilingual, collaborative collection Where do you live? أين تعيش؟ (Arrowsmith 2025). As well, she’s the editor of Other Paths for Shahrazad: a Bilingual Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Arab Women (Tupelo 2026).