Louis Awad

Louis Awad Poems

Louis Awad Biography

Louis Awad (Arabic: لويس عوض‎) (el-Minya, 1915 - 1990) was an Egyptian intellectual and writer. Born in the upper Egypt town of Minya, Egypt, Awad studied at the literature department of Cairo University before setting off to England for further studies before the Second World War. He returned to Egypt in 1941, after which he lived in the Cairo district of Doqqi for much of his adult life. Louis Awad was born in the village of Sharuna in the district of Minya. He studied literature at Cairo University, Oxford University, and Princeton University. As chairman of the faculty of letters at Cairo University, Awad inaugurated in Egypt the modern study of literary criticism based on scientific principles. From 1945 to 1950 he joined with other writers who drew from Marxism and other sources in a call for the total reform of Egyptian society. His novel alAnqa (the Phoenix) expresses this orientation. In a volume of poetry, Plutoland, he introduced free verse forms to Egyptian literature and presented a scathing attack on traditionalism. Awad's unwavering critical stance continued after the 1952 revolution. As a consequence, he was forced to resign his position at Cairo University in 1954. In 1960 Awad became the literary editor at the newspaper al-Ahram. He published a devastating critique of higher education in Egypt in 1964, arguing that students wished to be instructed, rather than to engage in independent study and research. Awad's writings in al-Ahram made him one of the leading opinion-makers in the Arab world. From the mid-1970s through the 1980s he served as a faculty adviser at the Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt, developing a strong following among graduate students there.)

The Best Poem Of Louis Awad

Kiriyalayson

Lord, O Lord
Lord, O Lord
The sorrows of this planet
Weigh down my childlike heart.
Disaster upon disaster,hidden in my breast,
A thorn in my eyelid, with lances for eyelashes,
That draw out of my proud eye meager tears in poison trickle,
Unleash on my heart a fire of leaping, hovering flame.
Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord
I shed the tears of others, for their sake, while those of yesterday yet remain.
Relent, O Lord,
Grant the prayer
Of the hungry and the starving,
Of the lover in his lament,
Of flesh mourning the flesh beneath the soil,
Of the soul that weeps tears of fire and rends my nerves,
Of ignorant man, dumb like the ox beneath his yoke.
All around blood, scum and the bellowing of rage.
Your world is a tragedy on which the curtain rose when time began.
Enjoy full well the spectacle! Misery is my lot of from the lord.
O my creator,
O my creator,
I have for long wondered at you,
Yet your riddle shall not mock me.
Your world is a fistful of wind-as a prophet said,
Your hereafter a mirage with a golden shimmer.
I, a slave of ashes, born of the night of gloom,
A spread woven from the fantasies of a ghost, Ariel, luminous and alluring
We are like children who weep when the star hides behind the cloud.

Louis Awad Comments