{"id":870,"date":"1985-01-01T22:14:34","date_gmt":"1985-01-01T20:14:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/fawwaztraboulsi.com\/?p=870"},"modified":"2025-03-03T10:13:08","modified_gmt":"2025-03-03T08:13:08","slug":"ahmad-uz-zatar","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/ahmad-uz-zatar\/","title":{"rendered":"Ahmad uz-Za\u2019tar – A poem by Mahmoud Darwish"},"content":{"rendered":"

Ahmad uz-Za\u2019tar<\/strong><\/p>\n

A poem by<\/p>\n

Mahmoud Darwish<\/p>\n

Translated by Fawwaz Traboulsi<\/p>\n

January 1985<\/p>\n

———————<\/em><\/p>\n

For two hands of stone and thyme,<\/p>\n

this psalm,<\/p>\n

for Ahmad forsaken among butterflies<\/p>\n

Outcast by departing clouds,<\/p>\n

by mountains sheltered<\/p>\n

… Descending from the scar of the old wound<\/p>\n

to the topography of the land<\/p>\n

the year the sea receded from the cities of ash<\/p>\n

I was alone<\/p>\n

and still alone<\/p>\n

Ah! for my aloneness<\/p>\n

And Ahmad was the sea\u2019s migration<\/p>\n

between bullet shots,<\/p>\n

a refugee\u2013camp that grows<\/p>\n

and breeds thyme and fighters,<\/p>\n

an arm strengthened by oblivion,<\/p>\n

a memory recovered on passing trains,<\/p>\n

on platforms with no passengers or jasmine,<\/p>\n

Ahmad was self-discovery in cars<\/p>\n

or on the seashore,<\/p>\n

in the darkness of prison cells in brethren countries,<\/p>\n

in fleeting relationships<\/p>\n

and the quest for Truth<\/p>\n

Everywhere, Ahmad met his opposite<\/p>\n

For twenty years, he queried<\/p>\n

For twenty years, he roamed<\/p>\n

For twenty years.<\/p>\n

His mother barely had minutes<\/p>\n

to deliver him in a basket of banana leaves<\/p>\n

and took off.<\/p>\n

He claims an identity<\/p>\n

and is struck by lightning.<\/p>\n

Outcast by departing clouds,<\/p>\n

by mountains sheltered<\/p>\n

I am Ahmad ul-‘Arabi, says be<\/p>\n

I am the bullets, the oranges, the memories<\/p>\n

I found my Self next to myself<\/p>\n

And abandoned the dew and the seashore.<\/p>\n

Tall uZ-Za\u2019tar is the tent<\/p>\n

and I the Homeland incarnate,<\/p>\n

I, the permanent voyage towards Home,<\/p>\n

found my Self within myself.<\/p>\n

Ahmad reunited with his ribs, his hands,<\/p>\n

Ahmad the step-star,<\/p>\n

From the Atlantic to the Gulf<\/p>\n

from the Gulf to the Atlantic,<\/p>\n

they were whetting their knives<\/p>\n

as Ahmad was climbing to cast just one look<\/p>\n

at Haifa and then jump off.<\/p>\n

Ahmad now the hostage<\/p>\n

the city deserted its streets<\/p>\n

and converged to kill him.<\/p>\n

From the Gulf to the Atlantic<\/p>\n

from the Atlantic to the Gulf,<\/p>\n

they were preparing the funeral<\/p>\n

and selecting the guillotine.<\/p>\n

I am Ahmad ul-‘Arabi,<\/p>\n

let the siege be<\/p>\n

my body is the fortress-<\/p>\n

let the siege be \u2013<\/p>\n

and I the fireline \u2013<\/p>\n

let the siege be \u2013<\/p>\n

for I am besieging you<\/p>\n

besieging you<\/p>\n

yet my chest a door open for all<\/p>\n

let the siege be !<\/p>\n

I do not sing to paint Ahmad in the trench,<\/p>\n

memories are far behind<\/p>\n

and this is a day of sunshine and lilies.<\/p>\n

Youth, stranded between windows<\/p>\n

that do not transmit my messages<\/p>\n

Resist!<\/p>\n

A sand grain is like any other,<\/p>\n

but you, to the azure are destined.<\/p>\n

Counting my ribs,<\/p>\n

Barada slips from my hand<\/p>\n

and the banks of the Nile pass me by,<\/p>\n

groping for my fingertips<\/p>\n

I find all the Metropoles mere foam.<\/p>\n

Ahmad marking time in the trench.<\/p>\n

I do not sing to paint burnt Ahmad in blue,<\/p>\n

Cosmic Ahmad he is, in this crammed tin,<\/p>\n

tortured and dreaming,<\/p>\n

the orange bullet he is, the violets of lead<\/p>\n

and the stark illumination of noon<\/p>\n

on a freedom day.<\/p>\n

Youth, to dew dedicated,<\/p>\n

Resist!<\/p>\n

Homeland\u2013gun in my blood,<\/p>\n

Resist!<\/p>\n

I shall now complete my song for you<\/p>\n

and join in your siege,<\/p>\n

and now end my quest for you<\/p>\n

and rise from your dust.<\/p>\n

So, seek my heart,<\/p>\n

You\u2019ll find my people a multitude of peoples<\/p>\n

in your blast.<\/p>\n

\u2026wandering among the details,<\/p>\n

I sought support on waters and collapsed.<\/p>\n

Must I lose the frontiers of my heart<\/p>\n

whenever a quince ripens?<\/p>\n

or seek refuge in a siege<\/p>\n

to determine my residence<\/p>\n

O, Ahmad ul -‘Arabi?<\/p>\n

Love did not fail me<\/p>\n

Yet, when night falls,<\/p>\n

a distant toll absorbs me<\/p>\n

and I have only my running blood<\/p>\n

to define my identity.<\/p>\n

The bread of my enemies<\/p>\n

is still soaked with my blood,<\/p>\n

whenever I take to a road,<\/p>\n

roads, far and near, flee under my steps.<\/p>\n

Whenever I befriend a city<\/p>\n

the suitcase is thrown in my face,<\/p>\n

and I seek refuge on the quay of dreams and poems.<\/p>\n

How long have I marched towards my dream<\/p>\n

to be overtaken by daggers.<\/p>\n

Ah ! for my dream<\/p>\n

and for Rome !<\/p>\n

Beautiful are you in exile,<\/p>\n

assassinated in Rome.<\/p>\n

Haifa begins here<\/p>\n

and Ahmad is the ascent to Mount Carmel,<\/p>\n

and the Basmala of dew, home\u2013grown thyme and Home.<\/p>\n

Do not abduct him from among the swallows<\/p>\n

or pluck him from the dew,<\/p>\n

eyes have written their epitaphs<\/p>\n

and abandoned my heart to echos<\/p>\n

Do not redeem him from Eternity<\/p>\n

nor scatter him on the cross<\/p>\n

for he is the map and the body<\/p>\n

and the brazen albatross.<\/p>\n

Do not steal him<\/p>\n

from the doves<\/p>\n

or assign him to a desk<\/p>\n

do not in medals cast his blood<\/p>\n

he’s the bouquet of violets in the shells.<\/p>\n

\u2026 ascending towards the healed dream,<\/p>\n

details take the form of a pear,<\/p>\n

the country parts with its offices<\/p>\n

and horses with suitcases.<\/p>\n

Pebbles sweat<\/p>\n

and I kiss the silence of this salt<\/p>\n

and render unto lemon the sermon of lemons.<\/p>\n

From my open wound do I light a candle<\/p>\n

in memory of flowers and dried fish.<\/p>\n

Pebbles sweat and reflect<\/p>\n

and the woodcutter’s heart is a dove\u2019s.<\/p>\n

O, my beautiful woman<\/p>\n

who breaks the heart, cuts tender onions<\/p>\n

and goes for violets,<\/p>\n

if I have abandoned you<\/p>\n

it is only for policemen to lay off my track,<\/p>\n

remember me lest my hands deny me.<\/p>\n

… still ascending towards the healed dream,<\/p>\n

seats shrink under my trees and your shadow,<\/p>\n

crawlers on your sores disappear<\/p>\n

like season flies and voyeurs of your wounds vanish.<\/p>\n

Remember me lest my hands deny me!<\/p>\n

To butterflies have I dedicated my strife<\/p>\n

And to rocks my message on Earth:<\/p>\n

Troy is not my home<\/p>\n

Or Massada my time.<\/p>\n

I rise from dry bread and requisitioned water<\/p>\n

I rise from a wandering lost horse on the road to the airport,<\/p>\n

I rise from the sea breeze,<\/p>\n

From shrapnels addicted to my body<\/p>\n

from eyes seeking sunset in the plain,<\/p>\n

from groceries\u2019 boxes<\/p>\n

from the force of things, I do rise,<\/p>\n

and identify with the poor in all the alleys chanting:<\/p>\n

we shall overcome<\/p>\n

we shall overcome<\/p>\n

we shall overcome !<\/p>\n

The refugee camp was Ahmad’s body,<\/p>\n

Damascus his eye-lids<\/p>\n

and Hijaz his shadow.<\/p>\n

The siege became Ahmad’s journey<\/p>\n

across the hearts of the millions in chains,<\/p>\n

the siege became Ahmad’s offensive<\/p>\n

and the sea his last bullet.<\/p>\n

Waist that defies all winds<\/p>\n

weeklong of honey !<\/p>\n

appelation for eyes and echo of marble,<\/p>\n

O Ahmad born of stone and thyme,<\/p>\n

you will say NO!<\/p>\n

you will say NO!<\/p>\n

My skin is the cloak of every peasant<\/p>\n

Who will arrive from the tobacco fields<\/p>\n

to abolish the Metropoles.<\/p>\n

And you say: NO!<\/p>\n

My body, the manifesto of marchers<\/p>\n

from light industries’<\/p>\n

reticence and epic poems<\/p>\n

to storm these Present Times.<\/p>\n

And you will say: NO!<\/p>\n

My hands, the salute of flowers and a bomb,<\/p>\n

on-duty raised, in defiance of these Present Times<\/p>\n

And you will say: NO!<\/p>\n

Body stained by mountains slopes<\/p>\n

and approaching suns, you will say: NO!<\/p>\n

Body wed to the wages<\/p>\n

on the guillotine,<\/p>\n

You will say: NO!<\/p>\n

You will say: NO!<\/p>\n

You will say: NO!<\/p>\n

You die next to my blood and rise in flour bags,<\/p>\n

and we shall be pilgrims to your silence<\/p>\n

when your hands beckon to us<\/p>\n

or are urged to write.<\/p>\n

Horses tread over birds<\/p>\n

and we have invented jasmine<\/p>\n

to exorcise the shadow of Death from our words.<\/p>\n

Go forth into the clouds and the green:<\/p>\n

this is no time for exile and my song …<\/p>\n

The throng of Death shall drown us,<\/p>\n

so dive into the throng,<\/p>\n

per chance to strike the innocent Homeland<\/p>\n

and the promised jasmine.<\/p>\n

Go forth towards your blood, readied for your exodus<\/p>\n

and go forth towards my blood unified in your siege.<\/p>\n

This is no time for exile<\/p>\n

nor for handsome portraits on the street walls,<\/p>\n

no time for funerals<\/p>\n

nor wishful thinking.<\/p>\n

Birds have sung their funeral march and outcast me<\/p>\n

fields spread their cloaks and sheltered me.<\/p>\n

Go deep into my blood! Go deep into flour!<\/p>\n

perchance to strike the innocent Homeland<\/p>\n

and the promised jasmine.<\/p>\n

Every day Ahmad!<\/p>\n

name of hunters for dew and simple words,<\/p>\n

appellation of the orange,<\/p>\n

Ordinary Ahmad!<\/p>\n

how did you manage to abolish this verbal difference<\/p>\n

between rock and apple<\/p>\n

between gun and gazelle?<\/p>\n

This is no time for exile and my song<\/p>\n

we will go into the siege<\/p>\n

till the day of the Metropoles comes.<\/p>\n

So, go deep into my blood<\/p>\n

be wedding rings<\/p>\n

go deep into my blood<\/p>\n

be flower buds<\/p>\n

go deep into my blood<\/p>\n

be ladders<\/p>\n

O Ahmad ul-‘Arabi<\/p>\n

Resist!<\/p>\n

This is no time for exile and my song
\nwe will go into the siege<\/p>\n

till the quay of bread and waves<\/p>\n

for this is my space,<\/p>\n

the space of the possessive Homeland:<\/p>\n

death in the face of the dream<\/p>\n

or the dream on the slogan crucified.<\/p>\n

Go deep into my blood! Go deep into flour!<\/p>\n

Perchance to strike the innocent Homeland<\/p>\n

and the promised jasmine.<\/p>\n

\u2026His are the autumn swerves<\/p>\n

his the testament of oranges<\/p>\n

his the hemorrhage of poems<\/p>\n

and the wrinkles of mountains<\/p>\n

his the cheers<\/p>\n

his the weddings<\/p>\n

the colored magazines<\/p>\n

the serene funeral orations<\/p>\n

the posters on the walls<\/p>\n

the flag<\/p>\n

progress<\/p>\n

the brass band<\/p>\n

the mourning order<\/p>\n

and everything, everything, everything<\/p>\n

when he reveals his face<\/p>\n

to those coming to identify the features of his face.<\/p>\n

Enigmatic Ahmad!<\/p>\n

how did you dwell in us for twenty years<\/p>\n

and then simply disappeared<\/p>\n

your face vague like noon?<\/p>\n

O Ahmad as mysterious as forest and fire<\/p>\n

unveil your popular face for us<\/p>\n

and proclaim your last will.<\/p>\n

Spectators! Disperse in silence!<\/p>\n

Step back, you’d find him in you<\/p>\n

a hand full of wheat and two bare hands.<\/p>\n

Step back, you’ll hear him reciting his will<\/p>\n

to the dead when they die<\/p>\n

and throwing his mask<\/p>\n

in the face of the living, if they survive!<\/p>\n

Ahmad, my brother!<\/p>\n

worshipper, idol and temple:<\/p>\n

When will you testify<\/p>\n

When will you testify<\/p>\n

When will you testify?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ahmad uz-Za\u2019tar A poem by Mahmoud Darwish Translated by Fawwaz Traboulsi January 1985 ——————— For two hands of stone and thyme, this psalm, for Ahmad forsaken among butterflies Outcast by departing clouds, by mountains sheltered … Descending from the scar of the old wound to the topography of the land the year the sea receded […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":"","_wp_rev_ctl_limit":""},"categories":[],"content_type":[558],"themes":[408],"country":[337,345],"language":[66],"archive_type":[113],"archive_author":[246],"media_type":[],"keywords":[565,669,1601,930,1051,1119,1683,1239,1271,1347,1360,1491],"ft_dossier":[3349],"ft_categories":[],"published_in":[],"class_list":["post-870","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","content_type-translations-en","themes-art-literature-en","country-lebanon-en","country-palestine-en","language-english","archive_type-by-ft-en","archive_author-fawwaz-traboulsi-en","keywords-1982-invasion-of-lebanon-en","keywords-arab-world-kw-en","keywords-autobiography-and-memoir-en","keywords-haifa-en","keywords-lebanese-civil-war-en","keywords-mahmoud-darwish-en","keywords-migration-en","keywords-palestine-kw-en","keywords-poetry-en","keywords-refugee-camps-en","keywords-resistance-en","keywords-translation-en","ft_dossier-palestine-zionism-en"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/870","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=870"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/870\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=870"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"content_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/content_type?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"themes","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/themes?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"country","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/country?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"language","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/language?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"archive_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/archive_type?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"archive_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/archive_author?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"media_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media_type?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"keywords","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/keywords?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"ft_dossier","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ft_dossier?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"ft_categories","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ft_categories?post=870"},{"taxonomy":"published_in","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fawwaztraboulsi.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/published_in?post=870"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}