Mahmoud Darwish Poems

They gagged his mouth,
Bound his hands to the rock of the dead
And said: Murderer!
They took his food, clothes and banners,
...

It is night and she is lonely
and I am lonely like her,
...

I left my face on my mother's kerchief
Hauled mountains in my memory
...

The exiles don't look back when leaving
one place of exile - for more exile
...

And we, too, have the right to love the last days of autumn and ask:
Is there room in the field for a new autumn, so we may lie down like coals?
...

We journey towards a home not of our flesh. Its chestnut trees are not of our bones.
Its rocks are not like goats in the mountain hymn. The pebbles' eyes are not lilies.
...

Tighten my fetters.
Confiscate my papers
...

The pigeons fly,
the pigeons come down...
...

For two hands, of stone and of thyme
I dedicate this song.. For Ahmad, forgotten between two butterflies
The clouds are gone and have left me homeless, and
The mountains have flung their mantles and concealed me
...

Here is a present that yesterday doesn't touch...
When we reached
...