Perhaps one of the most beautiful and charged texts I have read in a while. I came across it in a book shop for a friend and it called to me, even though poetry has never been itself a genre that I have been particularly interested in. This text has so much beauty, from its careful and tender production as a community to the poems themselves. On the act of translation I was particularly struck by the editor's question, “But what if our words, our bodies, our lives, had never needed translation?” as well as their assertion that translation is “[…] perhaps, as much a summons to perform in front of those who have othered us, as it is an invitation to impart knowledge”. Though all three sections (love, intervals, and war) were amazing, I had a particular fondness for the poems in intervals, especially ‘Trail of Tears’, ‘Time Travel’, ‘Abu Nasser’, and ‘Galeo/li’. I am so grateful to and for this anthology and I will come back to it.
Phenomenal and powerfully emotionally charged anthology, probably one of the most thoughtfully translated pieces I have read in a while. The poems are organized in three parts: love, intervals, and war, through which poets and translators spark introspection, imagination, community and heartbreak.
The Green Light by Kamal Nasser, one of the last poems in this collection, absolutely wrecked me
Exquisite collection. This is mind blowing, stunning poetry. It invokes introspection and conversation. This is poetry translated so that we can learn from and speak to each other. About Palestine. About humanity. About resistance. We might even speak back to empire after sitting with these poems. The juxtaposition of original poems with translations is especially illuminating. Highly recommend.
Previously untranslated words of hope, sorrow, grief, and faith. Poems about hope and humanity from people frequently dehumanized and hidden by the west, this feels more important to read now than ever.
”Whenever I close my eyes / trees attack me. / I open my eyes, / they disappear. / Habibi thinks I’m asleep … / but I’m roaming the forest.”
”You no longer remember the truth, / but we are keeping track of their lies.”
”We would walk in the trail of tears / in the caravan of the exiled, / behind a dream that doesn’t have room for invaders, / and a morning not scratched by stray bullets.”
”Sick with loneliness— / neither recuperating / nor dying.”
”And who could have known, / after all that has happened… after all that will, / that we could fly / to the heavens / with the lightness of a falcon / leaving behind / not one feather to show / for our existence.”
”I’ll forget / those who remembered me because of their loneliness, / and those who forgot me, because they’re no longer alone.”
New from trace press, as part of their "translating [x]" series, this elegant anthology gathers the work of a number of poets and translators with origins throughout North Africa and the Middle East. Each piece is presented facing its Arabic original (or in the case of poets working in English, its Arabic translation). Drawing on the fact that only one letter separates the word for "love" from that for "war" in Arabic, the collection is divided into three thematic sections—Love, Interval, and War. The intermediary section offers a particularly powerful array of poems that speak to birth, death, and loneliness. More thoughts to come soon.
“no, writing is too docile. the future must be carved out.” “may the poems gathered here…remind us that no words can pave sense into our wounds. may those entities that have burned our peoples alive be dismantled, everywhere. may poetry heal all that is left of our souls to help us rage on.” — yasmine haj, “to speak to each other”