Mahmoud Darwish

(13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008 / Palestinian)

Mahmoud Darwish Poems

1. I Remember Elsayyab… 4/15/2014
2. Cadence Chooses Me 4/15/2014
3. Psalm Four 4/15/2014
4. A Song And The Sultan 4/15/2014
5. Pride And Fury 4/16/2014
6. In Egypt, One Hour Isn'T Like Any Other 4/15/2014
7. Slain And Unknown… 4/15/2014
8. A Noun Sentence 4/14/2014
9. I Have The Wisdom Of One Condemned… 9/4/2013
10. Psalm Two 4/15/2014
11. They Would Love To See Me Dead 4/16/2014
12. The Promise Of Liberty 4/16/2014
13. Psalm One 4/15/2014
14. The Cypress Broke 9/3/2013
15. Your Night Is Of Lilac 9/3/2013
16. Neighing At The Slope 4/15/2014
17. Another Day Will Come 4/15/2014
18. Earth Presses Against Us 4/15/2014
19. Remainder Of A Life 4/16/2014
20. Other Berbers Will Come 4/16/2014
21. Promises Of The Storm 4/15/2014
22. The Owl's Night 4/15/2014
23. Ahmad Al-Za'Tar 9/5/2013
24. The Pigeons Fly 4/15/2014
25. Mohammed Al Durra 4/15/2014
26. Intensive Care Unit 4/16/2014
27. The Horse Fell Off The Poem 9/3/2013
28. We Have The Right To Love Autumn 4/16/2014
29. And They Don'T Ask… 4/15/2014
30. The Violins 9/5/2013
31. In Jerusalem 9/3/2013
32. To A Young Poet 9/3/2013
33. If I Were Another 9/3/2013
34. No Flag Flutters In The Wind 4/14/2014
35. Now, As You Awaken… 4/15/2014
36. Strangers' Walk 4/15/2014
37. Think Of Others 9/3/2013
38. Mural 9/3/2013
39. A Rhyme For The Odes (Mu'Allaqat) 4/15/2014
40. Nostalgia To The Light 10/28/2013

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  • yacta yacta (7/1/2017 2:36:00 AM)

    A part of me is with me,

    A part of me is with you,

    Each part is missing the other,

    So, would you come?


    -Mahmoud Darwish, I've choosen for you

    11 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Handsum L (2/20/2015 1:33:00 AM)

    We have on this earth what makes life worth living:
    April's hesitation,
    the aroma of bread at dawn,
    a woman's point of view about men,
    the works of Aeschylus,
    the beginning of love,
    grass on a stone,
    mothers living on a flute's sigh
    and
    the invaders' fears of memories.

    We have on this earth what makes life worth living:
    the final days of September,
    a woman
    keeping her apricots ripe after forty,
    the hour of sunlight in prison,
    a cloud reflecting a swarm of creatures,
    the peoples' applause for those who face death with a smile,
    a tyrant's fear of songs.

    We have on this earth what makes life worth living:
    on this earth,
    the Lady of Earth,
    mother of all beginnings and ends.
    She was called Palestine.
    Her name later became
    Palestine.
    My Lady,
    because you are my Lady,
    I deserve life.

    على هذه الأرض



    علَى هَذِهِ الأَرْض مَا يَسْتَحِقُّ الحَياةْ: تَرَدُّدُ إبريلَ, رَائِحَةُ الخُبْزِ فِي
    الفجْرِ، آراءُ امْرأَةٍ فِي الرِّجالِ، كِتَابَاتُ أَسْخِيْلِيوس، أوَّلُ الحُبِّ، عشبٌ
    عَلَى حجرٍ، أُمَّهاتٌ تَقِفْنَ عَلَى خَيْطِ نايٍ, وخوفُ الغُزَاةِ مِنَ الذِّكْرياتْ.


    عَلَى هَذِهِ الأرْض ما يَسْتَحِقُّ الحَيَاةْ: نِهَايَةُ أَيلُولَ، سَيِّدَةٌ تترُكُ
    الأَرْبَعِينَ بِكَامِلِ مشْمِشِهَا, ساعَةُ الشَّمْسِ فِي السَّجْنِ، غَيْمٌ يُقَلِّدُ سِرْباً مِنَ
    الكَائِنَاتِ، هُتَافَاتُ شَعْبٍ لِمَنْ يَصْعَدُونَ إلى حَتْفِهِمْ بَاسِمينَ, وَخَوْفُ
    الطُّغَاةِ مِنَ الأُغْنِيَاتْ.


    عَلَى هَذِهِ الأرْضِ مَا يَسْتَحِقُّ الحَيَاةْ: عَلَى هَذِهِ الأرضِ سَيَّدَةُ
    الأُرْضِ، أُمُّ البِدَايَاتِ أُمَّ النِّهَايَاتِ. كَانَتْ تُسَمَّى فِلِسْطِين. صَارَتْ تُسَمَّى
    فلسْطِين. سَيِّدَتي: أَستحِقُّ، لأنَّكِ سيِّدَتِي، أَسْتَحِقُّ الحَيَاةْ.

    39 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • Gurpreet Kaur (3/23/2014 9:07:00 AM)

    I find Darwish's poetry the most compelling.His poems bespeak immeasurable longing for home and peace.I wonder how moving it would be to read him in original hebrew and how moving it would be for an Arab like him.

    36 person liked.
    26 person did not like.
  • David H. Partington (3/19/2014 9:06:00 PM)

    I am delighted, and deeply moved, by the inclusion of Mahmud Darwish's poem. His is an outstanding example of the work of contemporary Arabs, and it is unfortunate that we in the US have so little contact with that rich outpouring of emotion. What a tragedy he and his people face and do endure! I hope that subsequent Arab poets will have happier themes for their lyrical outpourings.

    47 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Rich Persoff (3/19/2014 8:13:00 PM)

    A very sad person who bleeds with his poetry.

    28 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • Halcyon Poemcrafter (12/13/2013 3:19:00 PM)

    My favourite poet writing in Arabic. So sad he left quite early but as they say poets live on forever. You won't be forgotten Mahmoud Darwish contrary to what you're saying in this incredibly beautiful poem:

    Forgotten As If You Never Were

    Forgotten, as if you never were.
    Like a bird’s violent death
    like an abandoned church you’ll be forgotten,
    like a passing love
    and a rose in the night... forgotten

    I am for the road... There are those whose footsteps preceded mine
    those whose vision dictated mine. There are those
    who scattered speech on their accord to enter the story
    or to illuminate to others who will follow them
    a lyrical trace... and a speculation

    Forgotten, as if you never were
    a person, or a text... forgotten

    I walk guided by insight, I might
    give the story a biographical narrative. Vocabulary
    governs me and I govern it. I am its shape
    and it is the free transfiguration. But what I’d say has already been said.
    A passing tomorrow precedes me. I am the king of echo.
    My only throne is the margin. And the road
    is the way. Perhaps the forefathers forgot to describe
    something, I might nudge in it a memory and a sense

    Forgotten, as if you never were
    news, or a trace... forgotten

    I am for the road... There are those whose footsteps
    walk upon mine, those who will follow me to my vision.
    Those who will recite eulogies to the gardens of exile,
    in front of the house, free of worshipping yesterday,
    free of my metonymy and my language, and only then
    will I testify that I’m alive
    and free
    when I’m forgotten!

    44 person liked.
    7 person did not like.
  • Jennifer Chalk (3/20/2012 7:17:00 AM)

    Inspirational poetry, fabulous. Can you please publish Bitaqat Huwiyya here. I only have access to the second stanza online:
    Write down
    I am an Arab
    And I work with comrades in a stone quarry
    And my children are eight in number.
    For them I hack out
    a loaf of bread
    clothing
    a school exercise-book
    from the rocks
    rather than begging for alms
    at your door
    rather than making myself small
    at your doorsteps.
    Does this bother you?

    Thanks!

    69 person liked.
    11 person did not like.
  • Mohammed Nofal (9/26/2006 10:55:00 AM)

    i wuld like to be with yuo in this plac, plz suport me and i will suport yuo

    29 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
Best Poem of Mahmoud Darwish

Passport

They did not recognize me in the shadows
That suck away my color in this Passport
And to them my wound was an exhibit
For a tourist Who loves to collect photographs
They did not recognize me,
Ah... Don't leave
The palm of my hand without the sun
Because the trees recognize me
Don't leave me pale like the moon!

All the birds that followed my palm
To the door of the distant airport
All the wheatfields
All the prisons
All the white tombstones
All the barbed Boundaries
All the waving handkerchiefs
All the eyes
were with me,
But they ...

Read the full of Passport

The Dice Player

Who am I to say to you
what I say to you?
I was not a stone polished by water
and became a face
nor was I a cane punctured by the wind
and became a flute...

I am a dice player,
Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose

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