My post at 2012 Banned Books Read-Out Videos of people reading from banned or censored books as part of of the American Library Association's Banned Books Week (September 30-October 6).
In March of 2000 Israeli Minister of Education Yossi Sarid announced the inclusion of two poems by “Palestinian national poet” Mahmoud Darwish, perhaps the most acclaimed Arab-language poet of the 20th century, into the Israeli high school curriculum. This erupted a political firestorm that resulted in Darwish’s poetry being officially banned from Israeli schools, a ban that is still in effect, with then-Prime Minister Ehud Barak remarking that his country “wasn’t ready.” Darwish replied “"It is difficult to believe that the most militarily powerful country in the Middle East is threatened by a poem. The first step of real peace is to know the other side, its culture and creativity." Here are two Darwish poems translated into English by Lamdi Hasan:
Rita and the Rifle
Between Rita and my eyes there is a rifle
And whoever knows Rita kneels and prays
To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes
And I kissed Rita
When she was young
And I remember how she approached
And how my arm covered the loveliest of braids
And I remember Rita
The way a sparrow remembers its stream
Ah, Rita
Between us there are a million sparrows and images
And many a rendezvous
Fired at by a rifle
Rita's name was a feast in my mouth
Rita's body was a wedding in my blood
And I was lost in Rita for two years
And for two years she slept on my arm
And we made promises
Over the most beautiful of cups
And we burned in the wine of our lips
And we were born again
Ah, Rita!
What before this rifle could have turned my eyes from yours
Except a nap or two or honey-colored clouds?
Once upon a time
Oh, the silence of dusk
In the morning my moon migrated to a far place
Towards those honey-colored eyes
And the city swept away all the singers
And Rita
Between Rita and my eyes — A rifle
Think of Others
As you fix your breakfast, think of others. Don’t forget to feed the pigeons.
As you fight your wars, think of others. Don’t forget those who want peace.
As you pay your water bill, think of others, who drink the clouds’ rain.
As you return home, your own home, think of others. Don’t forget those who live in tents.
As you sleep and count the stars, think of others. There are people who have no place to sleep.
As you liberate yourself with metaphors, think of others, who lost their rights to speak.
And as you think of distant others, think of yourself and say “I wish I was a candle in the darkness.”
