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Nizar Qabbani

Nizar Qabbani Books

Diplomat

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“أدمنت احزاني فصرت اخاف ان لا احزنا I got addicted to my sorrows, Until I have gotten scared of not being sorrowed. وطعنت آلافا من المرات حتى صار يوجعني بان لا اطعنا And I was stabbed thousands of times, Until it felt painful not to be stabbed. ولعنت في كل اللغات حتى صار يقلقني بان لا العنا And I was cursed in all the languages, Until I started being nervous of not being cursed. ولقد تشابهت كل البلاد فلا ارى نفسي هناك، ولا ارى نفسي هنا And all the countries seemed the same, That I don't see myself there, And I don't see myself here.”

“Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrow A big tear wandering in the eye Who will halt the aggression? On you, the pearl of religions? Who will wash your bloody walls? Who will safeguard the Bible? Who will rescue the Quran? Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ? Who will save man? يا قدسُ، يا مدينةَ الأحزان يا دمعةً كبيرةً تجولُ في الأجفان من يوقفُ العدوان؟ عليكِ، يا لؤلؤةَ الأديان من يغسل الدماءَ عن حجارةِ الجدران؟ من ينقذُ الإنجيل؟ من ينقذُ القرآن؟ من ينقذُ المسيحَ ممن قتلوا المسيح؟ من ينقذُ الإنسان؟”

“And I Decided (From Arabic) And I decided to go Round the world on freedom's bicycle By ways illegal As the travels of wind. When asked for my address I give the address of all sidewalks I chose as permanent residence. When asked for my papers, I show them your eyes And am allowed to pass For they know that travel in the cities of your eyes, my dear, Is the right of all world citizens. وقررت نزار قباني وقررت أن أطوفَ العالمَ على درّاجة الحرِّية.. وبنفسِ الطريقةِ غيرِ الشرعيِّة التي تستعملها الريح عندما تسافر.. وإذا سأَلوني عن عُنواني أعطيتُهم عنوانَ كلِّ الأرصِفة التي اخترتها مكاناً دائماً لإقامتي. وإذا سألوني عن أوراقي أريتُهُم عينيكِ، يا حبيبتي.. فَتَرَكوني أمرّ.. لأنهم يعرفونَ أنَّ السفر في مدائن عينيكِ.. من حق جميع المواطينَ في العالم”

“tell me even though lies soft words it was about to kill me with you that statue i still in the art of love a baby between us seas and mountains you still can't understand that all men are babies so if i stood before your love quietly then quietness in the love is love our words in love are killing our love and letters are dying after they're said love stories may drive you crazy cause its all full of fantasies love is not a story,my dear where the stars marry each other by the end its to get hot blooded for anything silly it's our misery, it's our killing doubting it's this hand that assassin us and we accept that hand that assassin”

“هذي دمشق.. وهذي الكأس والراح إني أحب... وبعـض الحـب ذباح أنا الدمشقي.. لو شرحتم جسدي لسـال منه عناقيـدٌ.. وتفـاح و لو فتحـتم شراييني بمديتكـم سمعتم في دمي أصوات من راحوا زراعة القلب.. تشفي بعض من عشقو وما لقلـبي –إذا أحببـت جـراح This is Damascus... and this is a glass of spirit (comfort) I am in love... but I am aware of the fact that certain kinds of love can slaughter you in wrath I am a Damascene... if you dissect me into halves You will have but grapes... and apples falling in your path Open my veins with scalpels Hear ancestral chants If heart transplants... can cure some of the passionate Why does mine stay torn in half then?”

“Jerusalem! My Love,My Town I wept until my tears were dry I prayed until the candles flickered I knelt until the floor creaked I asked about Mohammed and Christ Oh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophets The shortest path between earth and sky Oh Jerusalem, the citadel of laws A beautiful child with fingers charred and downcast eyes You are the shady oasis passed by the Prophet Your streets are melancholy Your minarets are mourning You, the young maiden dressed in black Who rings the bells at the Nativity Church, On sunday morning? Who brings toys for the children On Christmas eve? Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrow A big tear wandering in the eye Who will halt the aggression On you, the pearl of religions? Who will wash your bloody walls? Who will safeguard the Bible? Who will rescue the Quran? Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ? Who will save man? Oh Jerusalem my town Oh Jerusalem my love Tomorrow the lemon trees will blossom And the olive trees will rejoice Your eyes will dance The migrant pigeons will return To your sacred roofs And your children will play again And fathers and sons will meet On your rosy hills My town The town of peace and olives”

“Arab children, Corn ears of the future, You will break our chains, Kill the opium in our heads, Kill the illusions. Arab children, Don't read about our suffocated generation, We are a hopeless case. We are as worthless as a water-melon rind. Dont read about us, Dont ape us, Dont accept us, Dont accept our ideas, We are a nation of crooks and jugglers. Arab children, Spring rain, Corn ears of the future, You are the generation That will overcome defeat.”