Mahmoud Darwish Poems

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

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.
...

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…
...

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

So, we are who we are, as the Mississippi flows,
and what remains from yesterday is still ours-
but the color of the sky has changed,
the sea to the East has changed.
...

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,
...

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
...

Don't apologize for what you've done - I'm saying this
in secret. I say to my personal other:
Here all of your memories are visible:
Midday ennui in a cat's somnolence,
...

Here the birds' journey ends, our journey, the journey of words,
and after us there will be a horizon for the new birds.
...

Still there is on thy saucers remains of honey
Kick out the flies so that you can protect the honey
Still there is on their vines clusters of grapes
O, guarders of vines, drive foxes out,
...