Mahmoud Darwish

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Rating: 3.4
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 dropped them from my passport

Stripped of my name and identity?
On soil I nourished with my own hands?
Today Job cried out
Filling the sky:
Don't make and example of me again!
Oh, gentlemen, Prophets,
Don't ask the trees for their names
Don't ask the valleys who their mother is
>From my forehead bursts the sward of light
And from my hand springs the water of the river
All the hearts of the people are my identity
So take away my passport!
Caroline 25 July 2019
In what book was this poem published?
0 0 Reply
Joyceline smith 21 February 2018
These poems are good if you enjoy death and Doom
0 5 Reply
Othuke Isaac Umukoro 11 November 2017
This is soooooooo beautiful
3 0 Reply
M Asim Nehal 20 May 2016
Heartfelt poem, inner pain of palastine nicely written.
4 1 Reply
Eman Abdel Latif 19 March 2012
2 3 Reply

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4/19/2021 11:37:07 PM #