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Mahmoud Darwish

Unfortunately, It Was Paradise

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  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Death, wait while I pack my bag: a toothbrush, soap, a razor, cologne and clothes.

    Is the weather mild there?

    Does the weather in white eternity change?

    Does it stay as it is in both autumn and winter?

    Will one book be enough for me

    to kill the no-time, or will I need a full library?

    What language do they speak there,

    common colloquial or classical Arabic?
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Violet is the flower of frustration.

    It reminds the dead of love’s untimely death.

    So don’t lay violets on my grave.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    I will say: Let me fall into the lap of the letter Nûn.

    There my soul will be cleansed by Surat ‘Al-Rahman.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Death, wait for me beyond this earth, in your kingdom.

    Wait, while beside your tent I say a few words to what’s left of my life.

    I want to read all of Tarafah, so give me time.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    I was not born to know that I will die, but to love the innermost of God’s shadows.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    You said: What’s the use of my name without you?

    Call me, for I created you when you gave me my name,

    and in possessing it, you killed me.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Be worthy of the aroma of bread and summer flowers,

    for your mother’s clay oven is still lit, and the greeting is as warm as a loaf.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Will I perform my role well in the last scene?

    Had I already known the play or was it thrust upon me?

    Is that me playing the role or did the victim change his testimony?
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    A book is not enough to say:

    I find myself present in the fullness of absence.

    Every time I seek my self I find others.

    When I look for them, I see only my own strange self.
  • .citeerde uit2 jaar geleden
    Distant words dwell in an earth that revolves in the sphere of a higher star.
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