Mahmoud Darwish Poems

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,
...

The Earth is closing on us
pushing us through the last passage
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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…
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And we have countries without borders, like our idea
of the unknown, narrow and wide - countries whose maps
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I long for my mother's bread
My mother's coffee
Her touch
Childhood memories grow up in me
Day after day
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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
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This road takes me; a horse guiding a horseman
A traveler like me cannot look back
I have walked far enough to know
where autumn begins:
there, behind the river,
...

Wait for her with an azure cup.
Wait for her in the evening at the spring, among perfumed roses.
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On a day like this, in a hidden corner
of a church, in full feminine magnificence,
...