On Mahmoud Darwish ♥ 79th Birthday

♥♥♥


❝ Here, at the mercy of time,
on these foothills at sunset
near ripped-up orchards stripped of their shadows,
we do what prisoners do,
we do what the unemployed do:
we cultivate hope.

 
❝ We are alone. We are alone to the point
of drunkenness with our own aloneness,
with the occasional rainbow visiting.

- Mahmoud Darwish -

March 13, 1941 - August 9, 2008

The Poet of Palestinian People

Mahmoud Darwish

An accessible look at Darwish's life and work, at long last 
© The Electronic Intifada

Exile Is So Strong Within Me, I May Bring It To the Land 
A Landmark 1996 Interview with Mahmoud Darwish
© The Palestine Project

We travel like other people,
but we return to nowhere.

- Mahmoud Darwish -

March 13, 1941 - August 9, 2008

The Poet of Palestinian People

The Promise of Liberty by Mahmoud Darwish

The Promise of Liberty 

I walk the streets of the West Bank 
Without fear, though the pirates drank 
My spilt blood. My feet are torn, 
Swollen by a dagger, a knife, a thorn; 
Yet my heart is deeply - rooted in the land 
Where we walk, band after bold band! 
We are a soft breeze to our friends, 
And gunpowder against hostile trends: 
We march, and act; and we never sleep, 
Because we have promises to keep: 
Freedom beckons along the horizon afar, 
Leading our footsteps, like the polar star. 
We spare no effort, sacrifice or toil 
Till we celebrate the liberty of our soil. 

- Mahmoud Darwish - 
March 13, 1941 - August 9, 2008 

The Poet of Palestinian People

Silence for Gaza by Mahmoud Darwish

Mahmoud Darwish: "Silence for Gaza" 
© Mondoweiss

My Mother

I long for my mother's bread
My mother's coffee
Her touch
Childhood memories grow up in me
Day after day
I must be worth my life
At the hour of my death
Worth the tears of my mother.
And if I come back one day
Take me as a veil to your eyelashes
Cover my bones with the grass
Blessed by your footsteps
Bind us together
With a lock of your hair
With a thread that trails from the back of your dress
I might become immortal
Become a God
If I touch the depths of your heart.
If I come back
Use me as wood to feed your fire
As the clothesline on the roof of your house
Without your blessing
I am too weak to stand. 

I am old
Give me back the star maps of childhood
So that I
Along with the swallows
Can chart the path
Back to your waiting nest.

- Mahmoud Darwish -

March 13, 1941 - August 9, 2008

The Poet of Palestinian People

Think of others فكر بغيرك

Mahmoud Darwish Poem - Think Of others

yes, think of others all days Always !!!!!

caring is sharing !!!!!

♥♥ Happyyyyyyyyyyyyyy 2014 ♥♥

****************

I Didn't Apologize to the Well

I didn't apologize to the well when I passed the well,
I borrowed from the ancient pine tree a cloud
and squeezed it like an orange, then waited for a gazelle
white and legendary. And I ordered my heart to be patient:
Be neutral as if you were not of me! Right here
the kind shepherds stood on air and evolved
their flutes, then persuaded the mountain quail toward
the snare. And right here I saddled a horse for flying toward
my planets, then flew. And right here the priestess
told me: Beware of the asphalt road and the cars
and walk upon your exhalation. Right here
I slackened my shadow and waited, I picked the tiniest
rock and stayed up late. I broke the myth and I broke.
And I circled the well until I flew from myself
to what isn't of it. A deep voice shouted at me:
This grave isn't your grave. So I apologized.
I read verses from the wise holy book, and said
to the unknown one in the well:
Salaam upon you the day you were killed in the land of peace, 
and the day you rise from the darkness of the well alive!

- Mahmoud Darwish - 

translated by Fady Joudah

March 13, 1941 - August 9, 2008

Mahmoud Darwish
The Poet of Palestinian People

The poetry of absence: remembering Mahmoud Darwish five years on

The poetry of absence: remembering Mahmoud Darwish five years on
© The Electronic Intifada

in homage

I Belong There

I belong there. I have many memories. 
I was born as everyone is born.
I have a mother, a house with many windows, brothers, friends, 
and a prison cell with a chilly window! 
I have a wave snatched by seagulls, a panorama of my own.
I have a saturated meadow. In the deep horizon of my word,
I have a moon, a bird's sustenance, and an immortal olive tree.
I have lived on the land long before swords turned man
into prey.
I belong there. When heaven mourns for her mother,
I return heaven to her mother.
And I cry so that a returning cloud might carry my tears.
To break the rules, I have learned all the words needed
for a trial by blood.
I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw
from them a single word:
Home.

- Mahmoud Darwish –
13 March 1941 - 9 August 2008

Mahmoud Darwish
the poet of Palestinian people