The poems in this bilingual collection range from the rhetorical lyricism of Tawfiq Zayyad to the complex, cosmic imagery of Walid al-Halis, from the romantic idiom of Salma al-Jayyusi to the edgy, convoluted style of Tawfiq Sayigh, all evoking Palestine, the never-forgotten homeland.
The variety of the work is explored in Abdelwahab Elmessiri's extensive introduction and further reflected in the Arabic-language versions that accompany each selection. Opening with Mahmud Darwish's "The Roses and the Dictionary" and Samih al-Qasim's "To Najib Mahfuz," the collection is organized around six themes: aesthetics of the revolution, elegies, love of Palestine, steadfastness, resistance, and victory.
Other poets represented include Laila 'Alush, 'Abd al-Latif 'Aql, Fawzi el-Asmar, Mu'in Basisu, Ahmad Dahbur, Yusuf Hamdan, Ahmad Husayn, Rashid Husayn, Jabra Ibrahim Jabra, Salim Jubran, Nazih Khayr, Kamal Nasir, 'Abd al-Karim al-Sab‘awi, Mayy Sayigh, and Fadwah Tuqan. The book also includes biographical notes and a selected bibliography.
“But I, your exiled man, my native land, between my eyes and your horizons the border barriers stand.”
I went into this collection with high expectations. Abdelwahab Elmessiri has long been one of my favourite historians of Palestinian history (and the Zionist project), so I was genuinely excited to explore this work. I’ve been reading English poetry for about two years now, though mostly contemporary poets such as Mohammed Mousa and Huda Abu Nada, so I came to this collection with very little prior exposure to this style.
The book is structured into several sections: I. Aesthetics of the Revolution II. Elegies III. Love of Palestine IV. Steadfastness V. Resistance VI. Victory
I found myself especially drawn to the final three sections - Steadfastness, Resistance, and Victory. The poems in these parts left the strongest impression on me. Overall, I do think this is a masterpiece for readers who are deeply invested in poetry, though I also feel I may not be the ideal reader to fully appreciate it. So often I found myself switching between Arabic and English, and I definitely connect more deeply with the Arabic versions (the language simply hits differently :))
I was particularly devastated by the poems written in response to the destruction and displacement of villages such as Kafr Qasim:
“No monument—no flower—no memorial, no verses—no curtains, no blood-soaked rag from a shirt worn once by our faithful brothers, no stone with their names inscribed on it, nothing at all. Such dishonour!
Their ghosts, ever wandering, dig up their tombs among the ruins of Kafr Qasim.”
— Samih Al Qasim
But my absolute favourite poem, the one I know I will memorise, is On the Trunk of an Olive Tree by Tawfiq Zayyad:
”i shall carve the record of all my sufferings, And all my secrets On an olive tree In the courtyard Of the house.
I shall carve my story and the chapters of my tragedy, I shall carve my sighs On my grove and on the tombs of my dead; All the bitterness I have tasted, To be blotted out by some of the happiness to come.
I shall carve the number of each deed Of our usurped land. The location of my village and its boundaries. The demolished houses of its peoples, My uprooted trees, And each crushed wild blossom. And the names of those master torturers Who rattled my nerves and caused my misery.” There is more to it, but this section is my favourite.
Thank you to Saqi Books for the ARC.
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pre-read we have a saying: resistance is the deepest form of love. And the love in this land goes beyond everything.
I read this book in my non-western Lit class and although I wasn't thrilled with this book, I did learn from it. My teacher in that class was Arabic and the book came in both Arabic and its English translation. The teacher read the Arabic version for us and I have to say, was truly amazed. I took this class pre-9/11 and am glad I did, because I truly learned a lot about Middle-Eastern culture.