If I say yes,
the history repeats itself,
future nothing but a twin of the past.
If I say no,
you’ll dig into my skin,
but this time I won’t give in.
- a part from Cocoon Craving, Ezra Rubin
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poem166: nobody but you...
one warm April evening
the sun went down early
the seas swept away the castles
built for dreams to live in
the waves returned, hurried and eager
in the wet sands
they dug deeper
as if something precious was lost
but they returned
without their castles to peek into
without those walls to protect
life was like that
one day, you had everything
and by the evefall, everyone had left
the…
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This poem is dedicated to those in my life who have been affected by drugs, and to two close friends who I lost to a reckless lifestyle.
I wrote a brief, related article on my website at this link.
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link
on twitter, a viral thread started where people around the world shared their translations of “If I must die”, the last work of Dr Refaat Alareer also known as "the voice of Gaza". A beloved poet, teacher and life-long activist for Palestine, he was recently assassinated along with members of his extended family by a targeted Israeli air strike. His loss leaves a hole in the heart of palestinians all over the world.
Below the cut, I’ll be posting the translations of his poem, with links to the original posts. Unfortunately, tumblr limits posts to a maximum of 30 images. I will update when I can.
Arabic (Refaat’s mother tongue)
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2. Spanish
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3. Irish
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4. Dutch
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5. Greek
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6. German
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7. Vietnamese
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8. Tagalog
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9. Serbian
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10. Japanese
and the traditional japanese calligraphy version
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11. Nepali
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12. Tamil
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13. Bosnian
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14. Indonesian
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15. Romanian
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16. Italian
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17. Albanian
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18. Urdu
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19. Turkish
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20. Polish
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21. Norwegian
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22. Galician
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23. Swedish
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24. Jawi
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25. Bengali
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26. Russian
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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT HEADERS
like if you save!
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͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗁𝖾 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗍𝗌 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏06.
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏𐇵 ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗌𝗈 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏👋🏻 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇.
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏시 ͏✍🏻 ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏͏𝗍𝗁𝖾 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏৲. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍.
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗈 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏𝖻𝗎𝗍 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗂 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗁𝗂𝗆.
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖽 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏𓄹ִִִִִִ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝖻𝗒 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗈𝗋 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗌𝗐𝗂𝖿𝗍.
͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𓍼 ͏ ͏ ͏͏𝗐𝗁𝗈 ͏ ͏͏ ͏'𝗌 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝖺𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖽 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗈𝖿 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗈𝗅𝖽 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗆𝖾 ͏ ͏͏ ͏⁽ ‽ ⁾
⠀⠀⠀𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀⠀⠀͏͏──͏⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧.
͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏⭑ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ 𝖿͏͏𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖺, ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 ͏ ͏͏ ͏: ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏𝟢𝟪 ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏꒱
͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗍𝗁𝖾 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗍𝗌 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍. ͏ ͏͏ ͏( ͏ ͏ ͏𝖻𝗂𝗈𝗌 )
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They search around my veins
where she resides, sleeps and breaths.
they lead towards the beating fountain of blood
in my chest –
that’s where I give her food, water
and where she grows together with him
and with them, so do I.
- from Failed Exorcism, Ezra Rubin
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Taylor Swift via Twitter/X!
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