Outrigger Waikiki Toddler

Cinque poesie di Mahmoud Darwish

Mahmoud Darwish was born in 1941 in al-Birweh, village razed nel 1948, durante la Nakba, la pulizia etnica della Palestina.

I suoi genitori si sono rifugiati in Libano e sono stati tra i pochi a riuscire a tornare illegalmente nella terra d'origine dopo un anno, senza nessun diritto civile o cittadinanza. A causa di questo ha passato diversi anni in prigione, e non ha potuto terminare gli studi nella sua terra. Ha vissuto buona parte della sua vita in esilio. È morto il 9 agosto 2008.

Potete legarmi mani e piedi

take my notebook and cigarettes

fill my mouth with earth

poetry is my blood of the living heart

of my bread, salt, light in my eyes.

is written in the nails, the look and iron,

sing the 'in my prison cell,

the bathroom

the stable

under the lash

between strains

agony of the chains.

I have inside me a million nightingales

to sing my song of struggle.

REFUGEE

They chained her mouth

and tied his hands to the stone of the dead.

They said: "Murderess",

they took food, clothes, flags

and threw him in the cell of dead.

They said: "Thief!"

have declined in all ports,

took away his little love,

then said: "refugees."

you who have feet and hands bloodied,

night is ephemeral,

it `chain rings are indestructible,

`grains because of my ear that is bothering

fill the valley of wheat.

PENSA AGLI ALTRI

Prepari la tua colazione pensa agli altri (non dimenticare il cibo per i piccioni)
Combatti la tua guerra pensa agli altri (non dimenticare chi chiede la pace)
Paghi la bolletta dell’acqua pensa agli altri (chi si nutre di nubi)
Torni a casa la tua casa pensa agli altri (non dimenticare la gente nelle tende)
Dormi e conti le stelle pensa agli altri (chi non ha spazio per dormire)
Liberi l’anima con le metafore pensa agli altri (who has lost the right word) Think of all the others off
think to yourself (Say, maybe I candle in the dark)

SINGING FOR ROADS

Singin 'in the streets, the fields,

our `spring look will make the observatory

more distant from the place

on site as deep

the place more beautiful,

where you do not see that l `aurora,

and does not feel that victory.

We will leave from our fields

We will leave our shelters in exile

We will leave our hiding places,

we have more shame, if the enemy offends us.

not blush

we wield a scythe,

s appiamo how to defend an unarmed man.

We also build

A modern factory

a house,

a hospital,

a school,

a bomb,

a missile.

And we write poems more beautiful.

IDENTITY CARD

Remember!

I am an Arab

and my identity card is number fifty thousand.

I have eight children

and the ninth will come after the summer.

V'irriterete?

Remember!

I am an Arab

used with the workers of the quarry

I have eight children

rocks revenue bread,

clothing and books.

not beg to your door

nor do I humble myself to the steps of your room

therefore ', you will be angry?

Remember!

I am an Arab

I have a name without Titles

and Patient in a country

whose people are enraged.

My roots

were entrenched before the birth of time

before the opening of the eras

first of pine and olive trees

and before it grew l’erba.

Mio padre... viene dalla stripe dell’aratro,

non da un ceto privilegiato

e mio nonno era un contadino

nè ben cresciuto

nè ben nato!

Mi ha insegnato l’orgoglio del sole

prima di insegnarti a leggere,

e la mia casa è come la guardiola di un sorvegliante

fatta di vimini e paglia:

siete soddisfatti del mio stato?

Ho un nome senza titolo

Ricordate!

Sono un arabo.

E voi avete rubato gli orti dei miei antenati

and the land which I cultivated

with my children,

leaving nothing

if these rocks

and the State take them.

As murmurs.

So '!

Write down on top of your page

not hate people

I have never abused anyone

But if I become affamanto

the s flesh becomes my food .

Be careful!

Be careful!

At my anger

and my hunger.