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White Blight
Poetry. Translated from the Swedish by Jennifer Hayashida. "This vital book exposes the dense tectonics churning beneath migrant dreams. Accusatory, loving, full of grief and sage truths, Athena Farrokhzad's WHITE BLIGHT speaks eloquently to the troubled inheritance of diasporic survival. Through a litany of terse voices, Jennifer Hayashida's sensitive translation describes the nexus of filial obligations and projections under which the narrator sinks from view. The intense beauty of devastation and the poignancy of betrayal emerge with startling frankness: 'Your family will never be resurrected like roses after a fire.' 'I have spent a fortune for your piano lessons / But at my funeral you will refuse to play.' These white lines make me ask, what has been bleached out in all of our stories? I read this book, and I remembered my humanity." Sueyeun Juliette Lee Translator bio: Poet, translator and visual artist Jennifer Hayashida was born in Oakland, CA, and grew up in the suburbs of Stockholm and San Francisco. She received her B.A. in American Studies from the University of California at Berkeley, and completed her M.F.A. in poetry from the Milton Avery Graduate School of the Arts at Bard College. She is the recipient of awards from, among others, the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, the New York Foundation for the Arts, PEN, the Witter Bynner Poetry Foundation, the Jerome Foundation, and the MacDowell Colony. Recent translation projects include Ida Borjel's Miximum Ca'Canny The Sabotage Manuals you cutta da pay, we cutta da shob (Commune Editions, 2014) and Karl Larsson's FORM/FORCE (Black Square Editions, 2015); previous work includes Fredrik Nyberg's A Different Practice (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2007), and Eva Sjodin's INNER CHINA (Litmus Press, 2005). She is Director of the Asian American Studies Program at Hunter College, The City University of New York."
72 pages, Paperback
First published January 25, 2013
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May 26, 2023
Versão portuguesa, “Suite em Branco”, Douda Correria, Dezembro de 2022
A minha mãe disse: Distorces a ferida com a tua mentira desafortunada
Há uma mudez que não se pode traduzir
O que me puxou para este livro foi, sem dúvida, a sua estética: letras brancas sobre tarjas pretas sobre fundo branco, criando um contraste que talvez a leitura explique. Após uma breve introdução em que Athena Farrokhzad, filha de refugiados iranianos na Suécia, aborda a questão da aprendizagem de uma nova língua...
Passava os dias a praticar vogais curtas e longas
como se os sons que saíam da sua boa
pudessem lavar o azeite da pele dela
A minha mãe deixou que o cloro escorresse pela sintaxe
Com os sinais de pontuação as sílabas dela fizeram-se mais brancas
que um inverno em Norrland
...”Suite em Branco” desdobra-se numa polifonia de testemunhos, da mãe, do pai, da avó, do tio e do irmão, que por vezes assumem a forma de axiomas.
O meu pai disse: Quanto mais te afastes do local do crime, mais te amarrarás a ele
A minha mãe disse: Quanto mais trates da ferida, mais pus ela largará
A minha avó disse: O que perdes em fruta recuperas em passas
Além da necessidade de aprender a língua do país de acolhimento, onde nunca deixam de se sentir estrangeiros...
O meu irmão disse: Um dia quero morrer num país
onde as pessoas consigam pronunciar o meu nome
...surge a indissociável questão da identidade...
A minha avó disse: O pertencer é como um espelho
Caso se quebre podes arranjá-lo
A minha mãe disse: Mas ao reflexo falta um estilhaço
...das saudades da terra natal...
O meu pai disse: Ainda lá estamos, mesmo que o tempo nos tenha separado do sítio
...da superação do trauma...
O meu irmão disse: O passado é um abuso nunca completado
...e, consequentemente, da memória.
O meu tio disse: Irás esquecer tudo
menos a memória, que irás lembrar para sempre
A minha mãe disse: Distorces a ferida com a tua mentira desafortunada
Há uma mudez que não se pode traduzir
O que me puxou para este livro foi, sem dúvida, a sua estética: letras brancas sobre tarjas pretas sobre fundo branco, criando um contraste que talvez a leitura explique. Após uma breve introdução em que Athena Farrokhzad, filha de refugiados iranianos na Suécia, aborda a questão da aprendizagem de uma nova língua...
Passava os dias a praticar vogais curtas e longas
como se os sons que saíam da sua boa
pudessem lavar o azeite da pele dela
A minha mãe deixou que o cloro escorresse pela sintaxe
Com os sinais de pontuação as sílabas dela fizeram-se mais brancas
que um inverno em Norrland
...”Suite em Branco” desdobra-se numa polifonia de testemunhos, da mãe, do pai, da avó, do tio e do irmão, que por vezes assumem a forma de axiomas.
O meu pai disse: Quanto mais te afastes do local do crime, mais te amarrarás a ele
A minha mãe disse: Quanto mais trates da ferida, mais pus ela largará
A minha avó disse: O que perdes em fruta recuperas em passas
Além da necessidade de aprender a língua do país de acolhimento, onde nunca deixam de se sentir estrangeiros...
O meu irmão disse: Um dia quero morrer num país
onde as pessoas consigam pronunciar o meu nome
...surge a indissociável questão da identidade...
A minha avó disse: O pertencer é como um espelho
Caso se quebre podes arranjá-lo
A minha mãe disse: Mas ao reflexo falta um estilhaço
...das saudades da terra natal...
O meu pai disse: Ainda lá estamos, mesmo que o tempo nos tenha separado do sítio
...da superação do trauma...
O meu irmão disse: O passado é um abuso nunca completado
...e, consequentemente, da memória.
O meu tio disse: Irás esquecer tudo
menos a memória, que irás lembrar para sempre
May 23, 2018
Είδα ένα τόσο παράξενο όνειρο
Πως πέθανε η αυγή μες στα μάτια μου πριν καν ο ύπνος
προλάβει και σκορπίσει
Μια ανθρωπότητα φτιαγμένη από ζάχαρη και σφαγή
Κι εκεί μόλις αποχαιρέτησα το φως όλα τα 'ξερα
Πως πέθανε η αυγή μες στα μάτια μου πριν καν ο ύπνος
προλάβει και σκορπίσει
Μια ανθρωπότητα φτιαγμένη από ζάχαρη και σφαγή
Κι εκεί μόλις αποχαιρέτησα το φως όλα τα 'ξερα
March 8, 2021
Δεν ξέρω πως να μιλήσω για αυτά τα ποιήματα.
Η Farrokhzad γράφει μια απολύτως προσωπική, οδυνηρά προσωπική συλλογή σύντομων ποιημάτων που μιλούν για προηγούμενες και επόμενες πατρίδες, μέσα από τις φωνές των μελών της οικογένειάς της. Στο βιβλίο ασχολείται με τη μνήμη και την ταυτότητα, με τόση νοσταλγία να περνά μέσα από τις λέξεις της, που θαυμάζεις και ταυτόχρονα πονάς με αυτές.
Και παρότι η έκταση αυτής της συλλογής είναι ελάχιστη, η εμπειρία του βιβλίου είναι αντιστρόφως ανάλογη με την ποσότητα των λέξεων που περιέχει. Μια εμπειρία στην οποία σημασία έχει και το ίδιο το χάρτινο βιβλίο, με τους Αντίποδες να έχουν παραδώσει μια εξαιρετική έκδοση. Απώλεια, γλώσσα, τραύμα, όλα βρίσκονται μέσα στο Λευκοσελευκό και είμαι χάπι που μια από τις ελάχιστες συλλογές ποίησης που έχω πιάσει στα χέρια μου τα τελευταία χρόνια είναι αυτή.
Η Farrokhzad γράφει μια απολύτως προσωπική, οδυνηρά προσωπική συλλογή σύντομων ποιημάτων που μιλούν για προηγούμενες και επόμενες πατρίδες, μέσα από τις φωνές των μελών της οικογένειάς της. Στο βιβλίο ασχολείται με τη μνήμη και την ταυτότητα, με τόση νοσταλγία να περνά μέσα από τις λέξεις της, που θαυμάζεις και ταυτόχρονα πονάς με αυτές.
Και παρότι η έκταση αυτής της συλλογής είναι ελάχιστη, η εμπειρία του βιβλίου είναι αντιστρόφως ανάλογη με την ποσότητα των λέξεων που περιέχει. Μια εμπειρία στην οποία σημασία έχει και το ίδιο το χάρτινο βιβλίο, με τους Αντίποδες να έχουν παραδώσει μια εξαιρετική έκδοση. Απώλεια, γλώσσα, τραύμα, όλα βρίσκονται μέσα στο Λευκοσελευκό και είμαι χάπι που μια από τις ελάχιστες συλλογές ποίησης που έχω πιάσει στα χέρια μου τα τελευταία χρόνια είναι αυτή.
January 20, 2024
Η μητέρα μου είπε: Αν δεν μιλάς σε κάποιον που για χάρη του μπορείς να εγκαταλείψεις τη γλώσσα, δεν έχει νόημα να μιλάς.
Ο αδερφός της μητέρας μου είπε: Αν δεν ριγάς όταν διασχίζεις ένα σύνορο, δεν είναι σύνορο αυτό που διασχίζεις.
Ο αδερφός της μητέρας μου είπε: Αν δεν ριγάς όταν διασχίζεις ένα σύνορο, δεν είναι σύνορο αυτό που διασχίζεις.
Read
October 2, 2019Känns som att denna blivit nära nog mytisk i svensk litteratur, så blev överraskad över hur lättillgänglig den var samt att jag gillade den så mycket som jag gjorde. Starkt och bitvis humoristiskt om språket, familjen och ens rötter. Bra ingång till att läsa mer poesi.
February 14, 2015
Läs, bara läs!
June 13, 2017
οι χαμένες πατρίδες, οι νέες πατρίδες, η μνήμη, η λήθη, η γλώσσα, τα όνειρα, οι φόβοι. το μέγεθος δεν μετράει με αυτό το βιβλίο, που καταλαβαίνεις την αξία του απ τις πρώτες προτάσεις. θα το ξανά διαβάσω, ξανά κ ξανά. επίσης, θα ήθελα πολύ να το δω στο θέατρο. τέλος, φανταστική η έκδοση απ τους αντίποδες.
"Ο πατέρας μου είπε: Αφού κανένας απ' όσους σου ανήκουν
δεν είναι θαμμένος σ' αυτό το χώμα
αυτό το χώμα δεν σου ανήκει
Η μητέρα μου είπε: Μόνο όταν θάψεις εμένα σ' αυτό το χώμα
αυτό το χώμα θα σου ανήκει"
"Ο πατέρας μου είπε: Αφού κανένας απ' όσους σου ανήκουν
δεν είναι θαμμένος σ' αυτό το χώμα
αυτό το χώμα δεν σου ανήκει
Η μητέρα μου είπε: Μόνο όταν θάψεις εμένα σ' αυτό το χώμα
αυτό το χώμα θα σου ανήκει"
Read
September 22, 2015fuldstændig fantastisk
"Min mor sagde: Hvis du dræber mig på det her sprog må du beholde det"
"Min mor sagde: Hvis du dræber mig på det her sprog må du beholde det"
October 15, 2014
In Athena Farrokhzad's debut book ”Vitsvit” there is a mixture of what is and what were. The family came from Iran to Sweden, and the poetry centers around politics and the breaking point - the relationship with the place they left and the place where they arrived. Fragments of testimonies describe memory and identity. Athena Farrokhzad has chosen an interesting way of expression. She lets her poetry consist of the voices of her family members. The mother's attempt to assimilate and her father's voice of revolution. It's violent and nostalgic. Brutal and beautiful.
There are glimpses of the author in the beginning, but she doesn't return. Instead, the reader has to get to know her through the eyes of the family, and there are often conflicts when they view her from their own perspectives.
The white text on black strips resembles a collage, and perhaps that is the feeling the author wants to convey. It's a mixture of voices that should all be heard, together and individually. The strips might also suggest that the poetry is like subtitles in a movie, which reminds the reader of the fact that this is people's real quotes.
Farrokhzad uses the whole width of the language. Sometimes, it's casual, but more often it's beautiful, intimate and strong. The result makes Athena Farrokhzad a promising debutante. ”Vitsvit” is also leaving the reader with a self-critical emotion. Because, who is the blurry shape reflecting in the silver colored, shiny, mirror-like front cover?
There are glimpses of the author in the beginning, but she doesn't return. Instead, the reader has to get to know her through the eyes of the family, and there are often conflicts when they view her from their own perspectives.
The white text on black strips resembles a collage, and perhaps that is the feeling the author wants to convey. It's a mixture of voices that should all be heard, together and individually. The strips might also suggest that the poetry is like subtitles in a movie, which reminds the reader of the fact that this is people's real quotes.
Farrokhzad uses the whole width of the language. Sometimes, it's casual, but more often it's beautiful, intimate and strong. The result makes Athena Farrokhzad a promising debutante. ”Vitsvit” is also leaving the reader with a self-critical emotion. Because, who is the blurry shape reflecting in the silver colored, shiny, mirror-like front cover?
June 29, 2016
Svært forstyrrende diktsamling. Full av gru, likevel forbausende god og tidvis optimistisk. En innvandrerfamilie gir uttrykk for hvordan krig og maktutøvelse har påvirket dem. Fortelleren av diktene er selv uten stemme. Hvitt på svart, svart på hvitt - språk som hudfarge. Intelligent skrevet. Anbefales.
July 1, 2025
Min far sa. Ju längre du rör dig från brottsplatsen desto starkare binds du till den.
Min mor sa. Ju mer du vårdar såret desto varigare blir det
Jättefin hela den. Så många grejer man behövde höra. Och modersmjölken moderslandet språket.
Min mor sa. Ju mer du vårdar såret desto varigare blir det
Jättefin hela den. Så många grejer man behövde höra. Och modersmjölken moderslandet språket.
January 4, 2020
En kunde riktigt höra orden bakom metaforerna. Fint skriven.
February 2, 2021
Älskade denna, framförallt ljudboken som Farrokhzad läser upp själv. Det är något speciellt med att lyssna på en författare som läser upp sina egna dikter.
June 23, 2022
‘Mijn moeder zei: Elke familie heeft zijn verhalen
maar om ze naar buiten te brengen is iemand nodig
met een bijzondere bereidheid ze te verdraaien’
maar om ze naar buiten te brengen is iemand nodig
met een bijzondere bereidheid ze te verdraaien’
December 10, 2019
’Mijn broer zei: Het verleden is een vergrijp dat nooit voltooid zal worden.’
January 7, 2025
“my grandmother said: pistachios for the toothless / rosaries for the godless / rugs for the homeless / and a mother for you”
Read
January 21, 2014Poemul ALBDINALB (eu l-am înțeles ca întreg, un poem mai lung, care se întinde pe tot volumul) se deschide cu eul liric care trasează câteva coordonate despre familia ei, oprindu-se la mamă: Familia mea a ajuns aici într-o tradiţie marxistă // Mama mea lăsa să curgă prin sintaxă decolorantul/ De cealaltă parte a punctuaţiei silabele ei deveneau mai albe/ decît o iarnă norlandiană // Mama mea ne construia un viitor bazat pe cantitatea vieţii/ În boxa casei de la periferie alinia cutii de conserve/ ca înainte de război. Continuă cu mutarea centrului de greutate: apar replicile rostite direct de un personaj sau altul, marcați prin verbul ”a spus” – Mama mea a spus, Unchiul meu a spus ș.a.m.d. De altfel, singura implicare a eului liric în poem este această posesie marcată prin adjectivul pronominal posesiv ”meu/ mea”.
Căci fiica/ sora/ nepoata, în persoana eului liric, nu are nicio replică, nu vorbește deloc – doar redă ceea ce rostesc membrii familiei ei (aparent, doar vorbim de o convenție), surprizând drama familiei printr-un artificiu teatral – ai senzația că asiști la o scenetă când replicile încep să se înmulțească, iar tensiunea dramatică urcă. Faptul că eul liric este mut nu înseamnă că nu se oglindește în frazele și propozițiile emise de membrii familiei.
Dacă tot am ajuns în acest punct, amintesc că personajele care se aud în poem, vocile care prind glas sunt mama (cea mai prezentă în carte, cea care se află într-o continuă tensiune cu fiica ei) tata, fratele, bunica și unchiul. (recenzie: http://bookaholic.ro/albdinalb-de-ath...)
Căci fiica/ sora/ nepoata, în persoana eului liric, nu are nicio replică, nu vorbește deloc – doar redă ceea ce rostesc membrii familiei ei (aparent, doar vorbim de o convenție), surprizând drama familiei printr-un artificiu teatral – ai senzația că asiști la o scenetă când replicile încep să se înmulțească, iar tensiunea dramatică urcă. Faptul că eul liric este mut nu înseamnă că nu se oglindește în frazele și propozițiile emise de membrii familiei.
Dacă tot am ajuns în acest punct, amintesc că personajele care se aud în poem, vocile care prind glas sunt mama (cea mai prezentă în carte, cea care se află într-o continuă tensiune cu fiica ei) tata, fratele, bunica și unchiul. (recenzie: http://bookaholic.ro/albdinalb-de-ath...)
May 22, 2016
*takes a deep breath* wooooooow!
I'm so glad i've been made aware of this book and that it exists because it's so important and a lot is happening within the text and outside of it. White Blight is a combination of poetry but also written in the format of a play. The major subject matter is migration, a family emigrating from Iran to Sweden and the traumas that come with that. It is a very intimate reading where each family member is speaking on the impact its had on each of them but barely talking to one another. The opening page of this book starts with a monologue by the narrator but as the book continues she doesn't speak and the next page follows with the mother's response. At times the words the family speaks is harsh and startling and you're taken aback. This book is beautifully translated and the actually text, the contrast of black and white with the text in boxes recalls redacted text. There is so much in the book's style and subject matter that is reminding me of some of Solmaz Sharif's poems and I can't wait to read her debut collection and to study both of these works side by side.
There is just so much that can be discussed about this book and each page can be a conversation on its own. I basically marked and underlined every page in this book. This book is one of the best!
I'm so glad i've been made aware of this book and that it exists because it's so important and a lot is happening within the text and outside of it. White Blight is a combination of poetry but also written in the format of a play. The major subject matter is migration, a family emigrating from Iran to Sweden and the traumas that come with that. It is a very intimate reading where each family member is speaking on the impact its had on each of them but barely talking to one another. The opening page of this book starts with a monologue by the narrator but as the book continues she doesn't speak and the next page follows with the mother's response. At times the words the family speaks is harsh and startling and you're taken aback. This book is beautifully translated and the actually text, the contrast of black and white with the text in boxes recalls redacted text. There is so much in the book's style and subject matter that is reminding me of some of Solmaz Sharif's poems and I can't wait to read her debut collection and to study both of these works side by side.
There is just so much that can be discussed about this book and each page can be a conversation on its own. I basically marked and underlined every page in this book. This book is one of the best!
March 28, 2019
This is a brilliant work, an experience in a way that not many books are. The printing, cover and texture are part of the journey, a poem that demands to be voiced. I don't think I am terribly good at reviewing poetry, because I have feelings more than thoughts, the best I can say here is that the poem unfolds layers of complexity, contradiction, and searing emotion as you move through. This is, as described, a story about flight from Iran to Sweden - and yet it nothing like the expectation that description evokes. Farrokhzad draws on/out not the who/what/when/where but the what it feels like, for disparate members of a family, while always acknowledging her own authorship. There is loss and hope and pride and shame and passion and apathy and lots more, all within surprisingly sparse and aimed words.
I've been experimenting with using a reading challenge format to see if I can broaden my reading in both particular and random ways. White Blight is the first book that I simply would not have encountered without this, and for that alone, the challenge has been worth doing.
*Read for 2019 Reading Challenge 23. A book set in Scandinavia
I've been experimenting with using a reading challenge format to see if I can broaden my reading in both particular and random ways. White Blight is the first book that I simply would not have encountered without this, and for that alone, the challenge has been worth doing.
*Read for 2019 Reading Challenge 23. A book set in Scandinavia
July 21, 2015
Väldigt intressanta och realistiska dikter från Athena Farrokhzads eget liv och personliga upplevelser. Svårt att förstå ibland, ganska ofta, och fritt för en själv att tolka så som det ofta är i poesi. Hur som helst är jag glad att jag läst den här boken!
February 4, 2016
Om du inte darrar när du korsar en gräns är det inte gränsen du har korsat.
Revolutionär, blödande poesi. Ett personligt, allmängiltigt, minimalistiskt, världsomvälvande manifest för vår tid och all tid.
Revolutionär, blödande poesi. Ett personligt, allmängiltigt, minimalistiskt, världsomvälvande manifest för vår tid och all tid.
February 4, 2020
Challenging is the first thing. Then uncomfortable. Then revelatory. This book forces you to look at yourself. Literally! An amazing book-length poem about modern colonialism and language
August 30, 2020
Mama mea a spus: dacă ne vom întîlni din nou ne vom preface că nu ne cunoaștem
atunci cînd ție îți era foame și eu eram cea care purta laptele.
atunci cînd ție îți era foame și eu eram cea care purta laptele.
August 23, 2024
Kom i kontakt med denna samling på den estradpoesikurs jag gick i somras. Såg den senare i en liten poesibokhandel på söder och lockades av dess glittrande omslag.
Jag tycker om dikter med metaforer. Metaforen är poetens främsta verktyg. Poesi ska vara som en matematisk ekvation läsaren ges i uppgift att lösa, annars är det något som är fel. Det är en svår uppgift att vara författare. Ju mer jag läser, ju mer jag skriver- desto mer utmaningar ställs jag inför. Svårighetsgraden i metaforen är en av dessa.
När jag läste ”vitsvit” förstod jag också att en metafor som inte tydligt leder in läsaren på ett möjligt svar är likamed ett vaccum på boksidan. Farrokhzads metaforer är stundvis bra, mycket bra om jag ska vara ärlig. I andra fall utan inledning på ett möjligt svar för någon annan än författaren själv. Därav det lägre betyget.
De metaforer som var begripliga var oerhört vackra. Särskilt tyckte jag om de om feminism och den psykiska terrorn som infinner sig i lugnet (efter kriget). Rasismen och moderns avsky gjorde mina händer fastklistrade på bokpärmen.
Några favoriter:
”Min far sa: även den tupp som inte gal får se solen stiga, min mor sa: men om hönan inte värper serveras hon själv till middag.”
”Min far sa: ju längre du rör dig från brottsplatsen, desto starkare binds du till den.”
Jag tycker om dikter med metaforer. Metaforen är poetens främsta verktyg. Poesi ska vara som en matematisk ekvation läsaren ges i uppgift att lösa, annars är det något som är fel. Det är en svår uppgift att vara författare. Ju mer jag läser, ju mer jag skriver- desto mer utmaningar ställs jag inför. Svårighetsgraden i metaforen är en av dessa.
När jag läste ”vitsvit” förstod jag också att en metafor som inte tydligt leder in läsaren på ett möjligt svar är likamed ett vaccum på boksidan. Farrokhzads metaforer är stundvis bra, mycket bra om jag ska vara ärlig. I andra fall utan inledning på ett möjligt svar för någon annan än författaren själv. Därav det lägre betyget.
De metaforer som var begripliga var oerhört vackra. Särskilt tyckte jag om de om feminism och den psykiska terrorn som infinner sig i lugnet (efter kriget). Rasismen och moderns avsky gjorde mina händer fastklistrade på bokpärmen.
Några favoriter:
”Min far sa: även den tupp som inte gal får se solen stiga, min mor sa: men om hönan inte värper serveras hon själv till middag.”
”Min far sa: ju längre du rör dig från brottsplatsen, desto starkare binds du till den.”
April 23, 2021
Ποιητική κατάδυση στα έγκατα ανθρωπίνων πληγών, με την ανυπέρβλητη τούτη έκδοση να είναι το άσυλό τους.
«Ο αδερφός της μητέρας μου είπε: Ο πόλεμος ποτέ δεν σταμάτησε
Εσύ μόνο σταμάτησες να είσαι θύμα του πολέμου»
«Η μητέρα μου είπε: Διαπερνάς τα πάντα αναζητώντας
αυτό που θα παραμορφώσεις»
«Η μητέρα της μητέρας μου είπε: Μίλα τη γλώσσα που κρατά τις αποστάσεις
απ' αυτό που συμβαίνει στις λέξεις»
«Ο πατέρας μου είπε: Θα πεις με λόγια την απρόσωπη λαχτάρα μου
Υπάρχει μία λέξη, η τελευταία που θα εγκαταλείψει τον άνθρωπο
Κι αύριο θα 'μαι μια συλλαβή πιο κοντά της»
«Ο αδερφός της μητέρας μου είπε: Ο πόλεμος ποτέ δεν σταμάτησε
Εσύ μόνο σταμάτησες να είσαι θύμα του πολέμου»
«Η μητέρα μου είπε: Διαπερνάς τα πάντα αναζητώντας
αυτό που θα παραμορφώσεις»
«Η μητέρα της μητέρας μου είπε: Μίλα τη γλώσσα που κρατά τις αποστάσεις
απ' αυτό που συμβαίνει στις λέξεις»
«Ο πατέρας μου είπε: Θα πεις με λόγια την απρόσωπη λαχτάρα μου
Υπάρχει μία λέξη, η τελευταία που θα εγκαταλείψει τον άνθρωπο
Κι αύριο θα 'μαι μια συλλαβή πιο κοντά της»
May 17, 2020
”Det enda språk du kan fördöma förgripelsen på är förgriparens språk och förgriparens språk är ett språk som uppfanns för rättfärdiga förgripelsen.”
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April 10, 2021Känns dumt att recensera en diktsamling jag läste på en kvart.
Gillade den och tycker den är väldigt läsvärd däremot.
Gillade den och tycker den är väldigt läsvärd däremot.
September 29, 2025
En diktsamling om migration och språk, om att passa in och familjetrauma.
Min far sa: eftersom ingen som tillhör dig begravts i den här jorden
tillhör den här jorden inte dig
Min mor sa: först när du begraver mig i den här jorden
Tillhör den här jorden dig
Min bror sa: det enda språk du kan fördöma förgripelsen på är förgriparens språk
Och förgriparens språk är ett språk som uppfanns för att rättfärdiga förgripelsen
Min far sa: eftersom ingen som tillhör dig begravts i den här jorden
tillhör den här jorden inte dig
Min mor sa: först när du begraver mig i den här jorden
Tillhör den här jorden dig
Min bror sa: det enda språk du kan fördöma förgripelsen på är förgriparens språk
Och förgriparens språk är ett språk som uppfanns för att rättfärdiga förgripelsen
August 11, 2017
Som et skudd rett i hjertet, slik poesi SKAL være.
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