
On 9th of August happened a tragedy. A part of the palestinian heart and soul died; the palestinian voice, one of the greatest palestinian artists with Naji al-Ali: The awesome, beloved and unique poet
Mahmoud Darwish. Sorry, but my deep pain has no more words. This news is dedicated to him and his wonderful lyrics and some tributes. Express your condolences, your prayers, your mourning on here or show your favorite poem made by him. His death is a strong loss. We will never forget him - he will remain for good in his great work!
For Ibrahim Marzouk
النص العربي: لا يوجد
From early dusk the day was inscrutable
The sun shows up, lazy as usual
A mineral ash, eastward, blocks the horizon...
In the veins of clouds
In household pipes
The water was hard...
A desperate autumn in the life of Beirut
***
Death spread from the palace
to the radio to the salesman of sex
To the vegetable market
***
What is it wakes you now?
Exactly five o'clock
And thirty people killed
Go back to sleep
It is a time of death and a time of fire
***
Ibrahim was a painter
He painted water
He was a deck for lilies to grow on
And terrible if woken up at dawn
***
But his children were spun of lilac and sunlight
They wanted milk and a loaf of bread
***
Inscrutable day. My face
A telegram made of wheat in a field of bullets
What is it wakes you now
Exactly five o'clock
And thirty people killed
***
Bread never had this taste before
This blood this whispering texture this grand apprehension complete essence this voice this time this colour this art this human energy this secret this magic this unique movement from the cavern of origin to the gang war to the tragedy of Beirut
***
At exactly five o'clock
Who was dying?
***
Into his hands Ibrahim took the last color
Color of the secrets in the elements
A painter and a rebel he painted
A land teeming with people, oak trees, and war
Ocean waves, working people, street vendors, countryside
***
And he paints
In the miracle of bread (Written for Ibrahim Marzouk, a painter, killed on the morning of Wednesday, October 8, 1975, as he was buying bread at a Beirut bakery, one of many victims of the Lebanese civil war.)
Devious Comments
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Write on me...
Really appreciated for adding me up there, So nice of you.
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Member [link] and [link]
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If you love, love without reservation. If you fight, fight without fear.
=Palestine-Club
=No-More-Ignorance
--
If you love, love without reservation. If you fight, fight without fear.
=Palestine-Club
=No-More-Ignorance
--
If you love, love without reservation. If you fight, fight without fear.
=Palestine-Club
=No-More-Ignorance
--
Member [link] and [link]
--
If you love, love without reservation. If you fight, fight without fear.
=Palestine-Club
=No-More-Ignorance
Mahmoud Darwish, I Come From There
I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland.....
--
If you love, love without reservation. If you fight, fight without fear.
=Palestine-Club
=No-More-Ignorance
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