corere mi destino

Деревья не растут на бумаге

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 11:52:11 GMT

РАШАД АБУ ШАВИР (Палестина)

Деревья не растут на бумаге

Посвящается Махмуду Абу Шавиру

Учитель сказал ученикам:

- Дети, сегодня на уроке мы будем рисовать апельсиновое дерево. Фахд поднял руку и обратился к учителю:

- Устаз, я никогда в жизни не видел, как растут апельсиновые деревья.

Учитель сказал:

- Я нарисую его вам, - и цветными мелками принялся рисовать на доске апельсиновое дерево, усеянное зелёными листьями и прекрасными плодами.

- Вот так, дети, но всё же апельсиновым деревьям нужна особая почва...

Прозвенел звонок, ученики собрали альбомы и уже собирались уходить, когда учитель попросил их немного задержаться. Он сказал им:

- Готовьтесь к следующему занятию. Сегодня вы уже нарисовали апельсиновое дерево и прекрасные плоды на нем, дома вам остается лишь аккуратно раскрасить его.

Дома Фахд принялся раскрашивать свой рисунок, но прежде чем закончить его он спросил отца:

- Отец, чем отличается олива от апельсинового дерева?

Отец ответил ему:

- Олива, сынок, растёт в горах, и листья у неё узкие и острые как язык у птицы, а апельсиновые деревья растут на песчаной почве, и листья у них шире, а плоды больше, чем у оливы.

Фахд задумчиво произнес:

- Я много раз в жизни видел оливы, но никогда в жизни не видел апельсиновых деревьев.

Тогда отец сказал ему:

- У нас на родине много апельсиновых деревьев, но..,

Фахд спросил его:

- А ты не можешь посадить их здесь, отец?

Тот ответил ему:

- Нет, сынок, не на всякой земле можно вырастить апельсиновое дерево. Деревья болеют, если их пересаживают на другую землю, а иногда даже сразу же умирают.

Фахд спросил апельсиновое дерево, нарисованное в альбоме:

- Ну что же ты не растешь?

Но дерево ничего не ответило ему. Фахд закричал громче. Но дерево опять промолчало.

И тогда Фахд заплакал, слезы собирались на кончике носа и оттуда падали прямо на нарисованное дерево: краски, размытые слезами, смешались, и это еще больше огорчило Фахда, но потом он вдруг решительно вытер слезы. Именно сейчас он понял, что деревья, нарисованные в альбомах - ненастоящие. Он разорвал листок и сказал себе:

- Я вернусь к той земле, где растут апельсиновые деревья. Я построю дом на месте нашего старого дома, который строил еще мой дед и который они потом разрушили.

Голова Фахда медленно склонилась к столу, и он уснул. Ему снилось, что он бредет по широкому полю, а вокруг растут рощи апельсиновых деревьев прямо на берегу синего моря. Он увидел деда, который шел ему навстречу среди апельсиновых деревьев. Дед подошел к Фахду, похлопал его по плечу:

- Ай да Фахд, ай да молодец. Деревья растут на земле и никогда не вырастут на бумаге.

song for the ymen

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 10:54:56 GMT

Love and Death

From the cities of magic and the caves: Waddah arises,
Crowned by the moon of death and the fire of a shooting star,
Falling into the desert,
Carried like an orange nightingale
By the ogress with the caravans
To Syria.
A red feather
Is blown into the air by a magician
He wrote a charm on it
For the ladies of the cities of the wind
The words of the stones falling in the wells,
The dances of fire
Are blown into the chamber of the caliph
Becoming sometimes a poem,
Sometimes a virgin pearl
Falling at the feet of Waddah
Who carries it to bed,
A woman crying with desire
Making love with the night and the crazy light of the moon
Raving, singing, ending from where she did not begin,
Regaining
Rediscovering on the bed her virginity,
Ashamed of the night
And the crazy light of the moon
She opens her eyes on the ashes of the fire of a shooting star
Falling on the desert
And a red feather
Is blown into the air by the magician
Sometimes turning into a gazelle
With horns made of gold
Sometimes into a priestess practicing seduction
And the game of the end
In the harem of the caliph
His night is haunted by ghosts and boredom.
II
I did not find salvation in love, but I found God.
III
I kissed my mistress on the carpet of light
I sang a poem for her
I granted her the sun of Bukhara,
The fields of wheat in Iraq,
The Atlas moon and the spring in Arwad
I granted her the throne of Solomon,
The fire of the night in the desert,
And the gold of the waves in the seas
Upon her lips I printed my love
For all the beautiful women of the world,
And the kisses of the lovers
Within her I sowed
A child from the people
And from the dynasty of the phoenix.
IV
Where do these ghosts come from?
While you slept in her bed 0 Waddah,
Was it the windows of the palace?
Or perhaps the guardians of the walls
Did not close the doors?
V
In my sleep: I saw the river of death on your breast,
Forcing its current in the flesh of the silence
A hunting dog bites your breast
As the quail begin their migration
Following the orbit of human exile in the world and things
A face of a palace slave
Emerges from my eyes and from the mirror of this dawn
In my sleep I saw him kissing your breasts,
Lying naked over the bed of roses
Smiling for the future
VVI
Where are these ghosts from?
While you were sleeping in her bed, O Waddab
Perhaps it was the informer who relieved you
Perhaps it was the caliph who sent after you
The slave, the hunting dog, and the nightmare.
VVII
Before it came to be in the books,
In the novels and in the poems,
Othello already existed.
The scorpions of jealousy bit him, O Waddah! Before it
came to be in the books
Othello was a bloody killer,
But Desdemona
Will not die this time.
It is you who will die.
It is you.
VVIII
Othello in the turban of the caliph
Faces the masses
With his broken sword.
VX
I didn't find salvation in love, but I found God.
VX
I died on the carpet of love,
I didn't die by the sword.
I died inside a box, thrown in the well of night Suffocated,
my secret died with me
And my mistress, on her bed
Innocently caressing the cat, embroidering the moons In
the glacial darkness,
Reciting to the caliph
A tale about cities of magic and their buried treasures
And the morning surprises Desdemona.

in the solidarety demo in berlin

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 20:33:41 GMT

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 20:30:00 GMT

funny song, no ?

center for the study of unequolety

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 20:26:47 GMT

sounds like a good idia

http://inequality.cornell.edu

stend up

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 17:57:33 GMT

so i thought about, why not to make a stand up, it must be a good expiriance. i so these short video about an arabic comedian who makes quite funny stuff about the reality of the race things... so well, i thought it is actually possible to make it one time, so i decided, tomorow to read the news and to try alwayes to make adayly stand up collection from them...

oh jerusalem

Sun, 12 Oct 2008 16:16:26 GMT

jerusalem

النص العربي: لا يوجد

Jerusalem, luminous city of prophets,

Shortest path between heaven and earth !

***

Jerusalem, you of the myriad minarets,

become a beautiful little girl with burned fingers.

City of the virgin, your eyes are sad.

Shady oasis where the Prophet passed,

the stones of your streets grow sad,

the towers of mosques downcast.

City swathed in black, who'll ring the bells

at the Holy Sepulchre on Sunday mornings?

Who will carry toys to children

on Christmas Eve?

City of sorrows, a huge tear

trembling on your eyelid,

Who'll save the Bible?

Who'll save the Qur'an?

Who will save Christ, who will save man?

***

Jerusalem, beloved city of mine,

tomorrow your lemon trees will bloom,

your green stalks and branches rise up joyful,

and your eyes will laugh. Migrant pigeons

will return to your holy roofs

and children will go back to playing.

Parents and children will meet

on your shining streets,

my city, city of olives and peace.

life in jerusalem

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 17:09:24 GMT

hey well i am sorry i did not update the blog, but well here are some of the fings i had been doing in my visit to my homeland.

- studying Islam

- protesting in Palestine

- studying German

- meeting friends

- starting to learn calligraphy

(i am next to the child with the flag)

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 13:12:25 GMT

picturese of the celebrations of the victory over the occupation, in the vilage of bilin in palestine.

2 years of struggle, tear gas, rober cover bulets, coverd police, destructions, areests, kidnapings, they tried all in order to breake the vilage, but at the end we won.

erfurt

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 12:21:04 GMT

general moode - joyfull

the last days i had spend in erfurt, a small city in turingenia that realy lived up to the image i had about small coussy medeval german citys. one can steel see the history on its ancient streetes, especialy if a local history guide tures with you around the city as franc, a nise guy generaly did. among other things i learned that people in the middle ages had the habbit of putting cates inside the walles of there houses, where they woode die from luck of air, and therby somhow protect there house from the evil spirits, cats was already a big progress, as befor that it was human babys that woode be beried alive in the walles of the citadels and houses, so like the 4 horortortured mumified cates that i so in the local custal testefy, you never knw what one can fighned inside the walles of a german house. also i learned about the rich jewish history o the city, witch was aparantly the place of the only functioning synagoge in the DDR, and the history of the communist resistance of the city folk.

apart from that i went to a party in the squotad space in erfort, witch is extrimly big actualy, it was a hardcore punk party with a finish band, armagedonclock, the drivere of witch has known my newly made israely finish friend sivan from the no borde camp, and happily smiled to the only frase in finish i knew - mene haluan kokun, witch means in finish , i want a cake.

on a bright sunny day the squated aria lookes more or less like this

the sweet tasete of a reare victory

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 11:06:49 GMT

here are moments that i think in what is all of these struggaling worth for, we are too few, to unorgenized and too week for the big mashines of the state, and than again there are moments like today , when i know it was worth somthing in general, and for a small vilage in palestine, with its 2000 people, it changed there world. the first time i came to bilin was about two years ago, i was there in one of the first demonstrations, and got connected to the people, witch i woode meat again for almost two years, shere there desperness, sadnes, or small moments of hapines, we woode lughf together whanwe managed to outsmart the soldiers, and sheare the sadness of the famelies of the prisioners , go to the hospitale to visit the injured, and so on.

so it hapandes that everyone got attuched to a vilage, bilin was the one i feled atuched to. i remmber the day i brought to one of the guys in the vilage a stone from the berlin wall, and we laughft, that after some time they will also sell the parts of the wall for the westren turists

after 175 demonstrations, hundreds of people wonded, eleven killed, thousends arrested, after manny manny nights withought sleep, after thinking about every possible way of protest ad tryng, after many cort apeales, and parlamentary hearings, media reports and what not, we got the news today that we the state will be obliged to moove the fance back out of the palestinian lands, and into the israely teretory. over 95 % of the land will be returned to the vilage. the next fridy will be the celebration demonstration in witch we will go to fisicly destroy the wall.

"freedom never come easy to no one" nelson mandela.

if you dont know the story here are some videos about bilin

http://youtube.com/watch?v=iBPqYuZ3XGM

or if you want to get to know the vilage realy

http://bilin-village.org/