Mahmoud Darwish Poems

It is possible…
It is possible at least sometimes…
It is possible especially now
To ride a horse
Inside a prison cell
And run away…
...

I am Yousuf, O father.
O father, my brothers do not love me nor want me among them.
They assault me and throw stones and words at me
They want me to die so they can eulogize me.
...

This land gives us
all that makes life worth living:
April's blushing advances,
the aroma of bread at dawn,
a woman's haranguing of men,
the poetry of Aeschylus,
...

I will slog over this endless road to its end.
Until my heart stops, I will slog over this endless, endless road
...

The Earth is closing on us
pushing us through the last passage
...

I long for my mother's bread
My mother's coffee
Her touch
Childhood memories grow up in me
Day after day
...

Rome is skin to us as if imposed fate
Its name is branded on our backs yet
As prisoners' numbers and scourges that's Rome
Rome dismantles our brands under her want
...

Wait for her with an azure cup.
Wait for her in the evening at the spring, among perfumed roses.
...

To our land,
and it is the one near the word of god,
a ceiling of clouds
To our land,
...

A dull evening in a rundown village
Eyes half asleep
...