Mahmoud Darwish R.I.P

Mahmoud Darwish R.I.P
by sadegh
10-Aug-2008
 

Mahmoud Darwish, The award-winning Palestinian poet, has died aged 67, after heart surgery in a Texas hospital.

Wikipedia: 

Mahmoud Darwish (13 March 1942 – 9 August 2008) was a respected Palestinian poet and author who won numerous awards for his literary output and was regarded as the Palestinian national poet.[1] In his work, Palestine became a metaphor for the loss of Eden, birth and resurrection, and the anguish of dispossession and exile.[2] The poet Naomi Shihab Nye has commented about Darwish's work,

"Darwish is the Essential Breath of the Palestinian people, the eloquent witness of exile and belonging...."[3]

Balatarin
Share/Save/Bookmark

Recently by sadeghCommentsDate
Optimism and Nightmares
2
Jun 18, 2009
The Quest for Authenticity
6
Mar 18, 2009
Thirty Years On
39
Feb 01, 2009
more from sadegh
 
sadegh

No problem Souri jan...Iraj

by sadegh on Sun Aug 10, 2008 05:59 PM PDT

No problem Souri jan...Iraj Khan thanks very much for sharing those poems with us...

Ba Arezu-ye Movafaghiat, Sadegh

 


  •  
Souri

Thank you for sharing

by Souri on Sun Aug 10, 2008 04:27 PM PDT

I'd little knowledge about him and had read some of his work while I was still a student in France. I liked them very much.

May his soul rest in peace...and peace to his country too.


  •  
iraj khan

A great poet and human being

by iraj khan on Sun Aug 10, 2008 02:39 PM PDT

 

 

Here is one his poems:

"I have the wisdom of one condemned…

I have the wisdom of one condemned to die,
I possess nothing so nothing can possess me
and have written my will in my own blood:
"O inhabitants of my song: trust in water"
and I sleep pierced and crowned by my tomorrow…
I dreamed the earth's heart is greater
than its map,
more clear than its mirrors
and my gallows.
I was lost in a white cloud that carried me up high
as if I were a hoopoe
and the wind itself my wings.
At dawn, the call of the night guard
woke me from my dream, from my language:
You will live another death,
so revise your last will,
the hour of execution is postponed again.
I asked: Until when?
He said: Wait till you have died some more.
I said: I possess nothing so nothing can possess me
and have written my will in my own blood:
"O inhabitants of my song: trust in water."

 

Another poem from Mural collection

"And history makes fun of its victims

And its heroes

Takes a look at them and passes by

This sea is mine

This moist air is mine

And my name-

Even if I spell it wrong on the coffin –

Is mine

As for me,

Now that I am filled with all the possible

Reasons for departure –

I am not mine.

I am not mine

I am not mine… "

 

Our condolenses to Palestinian nation


  •