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Aseel Apr 18
من الصعب إسعادي. حيثُ أنّ سعادتي تختبئ في ثنايا الأشياء.
مثلًا سماع أغنيتي المفضلة تخرجُ من نوافذ السيارة المجاورة، أو أن أجد قميصي خالٍ من التجاعيد عندما أُخرجه من الخزانة، التوت بعد يومٍ من الجوع، الاستيقاظ قبل موعد المنبّه بنشاط، مساعدة أحدهم بالإنصات أو النّصيحة.
ابتسامة غريبٍ في وجهي.
رسمة على الورق.
بسست.
قلب أزرق.
أشياءٌ كهذه، لا تُباع ولا تُشترى، و إنّما تُصنع و تُحس.
Michael R Burch Oct 2020
Mahmoud Darwish: English Translations

Mahmoud Darwish is the essential breath of the Palestinian people, the eloquent witness of exile and belonging ... his is an utterly necessary voice, unforgettable once discovered.―Naomi Shihab Nye



Palestine
by Mahmoud Darwish
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

This land gives us
all that makes life worthwhile:
April's blushing advances,
the aroma of bread warming at dawn,
a woman haranguing men,
the poetry of Aeschylus,
love's trembling beginnings,
a boulder covered with moss,
mothers who dance to the flute's sighs,
and the invaders' fear of memories.

This land gives us
all that makes life worthwhile:
September's rustling end,
a woman leaving forty behind, still full of grace, still blossoming,
an hour of sunlight in prison,
clouds taking the shapes of unusual creatures,
the people's applause for those who mock their assassins,
and the tyrant's fear of songs.

This land gives us
all that makes life worthwhile:
Lady Earth, mother of all beginnings and endings!
In the past she was called Palestine
and tomorrow she will still be called Palestine.
My Lady, because you are my Lady, I deserve life!



Identity Card
by Mahmoud Darwish
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Record!
I am an Arab!
And my identity card is number fifty thousand.
I have eight children;
the ninth arrives this autumn.
Will you be furious?

Record!
I am an Arab!
Employed at the quarry,
I have eight children.
I provide them with bread,
clothes and books
from the bare rocks.
I do not supplicate charity at your gates,
nor do I demean myself at your chambers' doors.
Will you be furious?

Record!
I am an Arab!
I have a name without a title.
I am patient in a country
where people are easily enraged.
My roots
were established long before the onset of time,
before the unfolding of the flora and fauna,
before the pines and the olive trees,
before the first grass grew.
My father descended from plowmen,
not from the privileged classes.
My grandfather was a lowly farmer
neither well-bred, nor well-born!
Still, they taught me the pride of the sun
before teaching me how to read;
now my house is a watchman's hut
made of branches and cane.
Are you satisfied with my status?
I have a name, but no title!

Record!
I am an Arab!
You have stolen my ancestors' orchards
and the land I cultivated
along with my children.
You left us nothing
but these bare rocks.
Now will the State claim them
as it has been declared?

Therefore!
Record on the first page:
I do not hate people
nor do I encroach,
but if I become hungry
I will feast on the usurper's flesh!
Beware!
Beware my hunger
and my anger!

NOTE: Darwish was married twice, but had no children. In the poem above, he is apparently speaking for his people, not for himself personally.



Excerpt from “Speech of the Red Indian”
by Mahmoud Darwish
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let's give the earth sufficient time to recite
the whole truth ...
The whole truth about us.
The whole truth about you.

In tombs you build
the dead lie sleeping.
Over bridges you *****
file the newly slain.

There are spirits who light up the night like fireflies.
There are spirits who come at dawn to sip tea with you,
as peaceful as the day your guns mowed them down.

O, you who are guests in our land,
please leave a few chairs empty
for your hosts to sit and ponder
the conditions for peace
in your treaty with the dead.



Passport
by Mahmoud Darwish
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They left me unrecognizable in the shadows
that bled all colors from this passport.
To them, my wounds were novelties―
curious photos for tourists to collect.
They failed to recognize me. No, don't leave
the palm of my hand bereft of sun
when all the trees recognize me
and every song of the rain honors me.
Don't set a wan moon over me!

All the birds that flocked to my welcoming wave
as far as the distant airport gates,
all the wheatfields,
all the prisons,
all the albescent tombstones,
all the barbwired boundaries,
all the fluttering handkerchiefs,
all the eyes―
they all accompanied me.
But they were stricken from my passport
shredding my identity!

How was I stripped of my name and identity
on soil I tended with my own hands?
Today, Job's lamentations
re-filled the heavens:
Don't make an example of me, not again!
Prophets! Gentlemen!―
Don't require the trees to name themselves!
Don't ask the valleys who mothered them!
My forehead glistens with lancing light.
From my hand the riverwater springs.
My identity can be found in my people's hearts,
so invalidate this passport!

Keywords/Tags: Mahmoud Darwish, Palestine, Palestinian, Arab, Arabic, translation, Gaza, Israel, children, mothers, injustice, violence, war, race, racism, intolerance, ethnic cleansing, genocide
Aseel Oct 2020
يأكلني الغُبار
نسيتُني في خزانة
لا قفل لها
ولا أبواب
نسيتُني
و نسيتُ كيف أخطّ الحروف من الألم
نسيتُ كيف أخيط الدفء من وحدتي
اليوم
أترك الألم يؤلمني
و أترك الوحدة تحرق روحي
Aseel Sep 2020
كنسمة الفجر الأولى
بلطف بالغ أكاد لا أشعر به
يتسللني الرعب
يتمشى في عروقي واحدًا تلو الآخر
يضرب بقدمه حلقي كحائط حجري
و يجعل من قلبي ترامبولين مهترئ

لو أنّه يخرج بين الدموع
لبكيتُ دهرًا
و عشتُ يومًا بلا خوف
لكنني أبكي على أيّ حال
أبكي من الرعب الذي
لا يُفرغ في حضن الأمهات
يجتاحني
Aseel Sep 2020
.
يُذكّرني الخريفُ بك
بالهدوء
بالخوف
بالسقوط
بالوداع
بالرحيل
Saïda Boūzazy Sep 2020
أمواج الليل تغمرني  
تقص عليا  أساطير  الأولين
تبوح باسرارها الرنانة  
تتلو عليا ألحانها العذبة  
!
راحت تغمرني حتى غدت مني و فيا  
صرنا مزيجا  متراكما كتراكم الحنين بعد الفراق !
تهجوني،  
تحدثني في صمت  
تخبرني أن بعد العسر يسرا
خواطر
Aseel Sep 2020
.
نحن الذين نُجيد الكتابة عن الحب جيدًا
لا نجدُ من يُحبنا كما نكتب
Arabic
Bea Aug 2020
حبيبي الحبيب كيف أتمنى أن أكون معك في هذا الوقت لأكون بجمالك وعقلك لديك وجه القمر الجميل يضيء ظلمتي ولكني ما زلت لا أستطيع رؤيته.  كيف أريد فقط قبلة واحدة لك.  كيف تقصد العالم لي بركاتي الجميلة لله



My sweet beloved love how I wish I can be with you at this time to be hold your beauty and your intellect you have the face of the beautiful moon shining my darkness yet I still can’t see it.  How I just want one kiss for you.  how you mean the world to me, my beautiful blessing for Allah
I think I met  theright ******* plenty of fish she is my everything hens this poem
Aseel Aug 2020
أرى بوضوح
أشلاء قصائدي
رماد وجهي
و بقايا كوبي الخزفي الأزرق
على أرض غرفة تجمعني بك

ترى بوضوح
أطراف أصابعك ملويّة
ندمك في زبدية مع الحليب
أقلام الرصاص المكسورة
على أرض غرفة تجمعك بي

لكنّنا لا زلنا نُصرّ على دخولها
Aseel Jul 2020
لا أُمانع وحدة في عزلة
و لكن الوحدة في وسط الضجيج
عذاب
العزلة ملجأ
أما الوحدة
فسجن
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