Tumgik
#syrian literature
beljar · 1 year
Text
I have told you. About the girl who sings at the window. And the gravel that breaks under the wheels of the train. About the cemetery that has been sleeping happily for centuries, I have told you. A flower from my body, every morning—And a flower from my body, every evening—And I talk about all that has happened to me. Once, I sat by you and cried.
I wished to express myself with actions: To break a glass. To open a window. To sleep. But I couldn’t. What do I talk about after twenty-six years. Or after twenty-six bullets fired into emptiness? I am tired of talking, of debt, and work. But I will never tire of freedom. And here I am, dreaming of one thing or a few things: That the word becomes bread and grapes, a bird or a bed.
"A Moon", By Riyad Al-Saleh Al-Hussein, Translated by Ghada Alatrash
52 notes · View notes
gennsoup · 1 year
Text
If we live, it's only because some distant galaxy lent us its dust for awhile.
Zeyn Joukhadar, The Thirty Names of Night
17 notes · View notes
bones-ivy-breath · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
The Past by Adonis (tr. Samuel Hazo), from “Transformations of the Lover”
Text ID:
From the desert it comes, and on its face is the hunger of pigeons and parching flowers.
15 notes · View notes
valseorcstra · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Saadallah Wannous, On Memory And Death
Published in 1997/ a imaginative mélange of essay with short story & play formats
0 notes
oneminutefriend · 1 year
Quote
From a distance, above his house               a perplexed moon dangles               from threads of dust.
Adonis, “Desert” (trans. Khaled Mattawa)
1 note · View note
typewriter-worries · 1 year
Text
My lover asks me: "What is the difference between me and the sky?" The difference, my love, Is that when you laugh, I forget about the sky.
My Lover Asks Me, Nizar Qabbani
200 notes · View notes
swanasource · 1 year
Text
“I wanted to show that we have agency and can tell our stories in our own way. We don’t need people speaking over us all the time,”
Inside a Groundbreaking Anthology That Sheds Light on 18 Queer Arab Voices
33 notes · View notes
booksbyadesi · 11 months
Text
"My letters to you
Are greater and more important than both of us.
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
Are greater and more important than both of us.
They are the only documents
Where people will discover
Your beauty
And my madness."
Nizar Qabbani.
11 notes · View notes
existentialistes · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Adonis, from Selected Poems; The Wound
18 notes · View notes
wisdom-and-such · 1 year
Text
“[Love]He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your naked- ness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is suf- ficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, ‘God is in my heart,’ but rather, ‘I am in the heart of God.’
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.’
--On Love; from ‘The Prophet’ by Khalil Gibran
5 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Adonis
7 notes · View notes
caramellovibez · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
"I hadn't told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes, I hadn't told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed."
Nizar Qabbani
6 notes · View notes
gennsoup · 6 months
Text
I used to think remembering could be a kind of resistance, but I'm not sure it's enough.
Zeyn Joukhadar, The Thirty Names of Night
2 notes · View notes
bones-ivy-breath · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
The Past by Adonis (tr. Samuel Hazo), from “Transformations of the Lover”
Text ID:
Houses flee before its ghost that rises from the grave demanding vengeance.
20 notes · View notes
dadaaesthetic · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
idiotpaintedface · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Thrity Names of Night by Zeyn Joukhader
0 notes