Thème du mOis: Femmes en littérature et arts

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Lament of a Worthless Woman Nazik al-Malaika [Vous devez être inscrit et connecté pour voir cette image]She left, no cheek turned pale, no lip trembled. The doors did not hear the story of her death. No window curtain overflew with sorrow and gloom to follow the tomb until it disappeared the news tumbled down the avenue its echo not finding a shelter so it stayed forgotten in some hole, its depression the moon lamenting. .... The night surrendered itself, without worry, to the morning The light brought the voice of the milk girl, and the fasting with the moaning of a starved cat of which nothing remained save bones the fussing of salesmen, and the struggle of life kids threw stones at one another in the middle of the road while dirty water flodded the avenue, and the wind toyd with the gates at roof tops, alone in a state of semi-oblivion. 1952 Poems -1- "Here am I between the jaws of death As a heart still throbbing with the love of life As a couples of eyes athirst For the enjoyment of the universe; Making advances to the charms of the evening, I am still a bud, on the twig of fortune, Whose dreams and hopes are fresh and new. It is a shame, O death, that thou shouldst Bury my youth anon in the world of dead -2- And I, O life, what fate is meted out for me? Am I going to be a word devoid of meaning? Will the nights carry me away And cast the gloom of oblivion over me? In the morrow, fortune will extinguish my lamps. And death will squander the echoes of my tunes, Then I shall become, amongst other ghosts, a ghost myself And shall be erased from mortal existence. Oh, no, I do not want that. Would fortune have mercy on my tears. Misery and sadness Let there be a lasting echo of my melodious, song Ringing in the hearing of the coming years, Song ringing in the hearing of the coming years, nay even centuries O mercy! do not let my flowing tears Be an early elegy on my youth. -3- How did our days pass - how did they? Between the jaws of eagerness and grief! Your heart and mine were full of love and anxiety But we took refuge under the wing of secrecy. Whenever my eyes speak to you of my love I punish them by depriving them of you. O my poet, how did we keep it secret? Yet of old, no two lovers ever disobeyed Cupid. O my song, when shall my tunes reach thee, So that thou wilt listen to the joys of my love? Why do I spend my days suppressing my eagerness, When my heart is overflowing with emotions? Always we meet and always I ignore you, perplexed, while my sad heart is possessed of the anxiety of the lover! It is pride possessing the soul That makes a love appear indifferent -4- Is then then what they call life? As lines we continue drawing over the water, As echoes of a cruel song which does not touch the lips. Is this then the essence of existence? Wild scattered nights with no return and the traces of our feet on the road of the deaf ears of time are gone! For the storm's hand wipes them kindlessly and surrenders them to nothingness -5- Veiled Utopia. A haven of magic, we were told It was. Made of nectar and twilight roses, Of tenderness and gold. In it, they said, was The panacea for the wounds of man. We wanted it, but didn't get it. Back to our hopes, miserable and unfulfilled. Where is this land? Are we to see it or is it to stay enveloped, unattainable Agitating inside us only A numbed yearning? A prayer Within closed lips? The millions are A torrent of desire, Burning desire, And a dream of flame. Open the gates for thousands of exhausted victims are screaming. -6- They spoke of 'life'; It is the color of a corpse's eye It is the echoing steps of a stealthy killer: Its curving days a poisoned coat diffusing death. Its dreams the humour of a demon with paralyzing eyes, death - hiding lips. -7- Where shall I go? I'm weary of the ways, I'm bored with the meadows And with the persistent, hidden enemy Following my footsteps. Where can I escape? The trails and roads that carry Songs to every strange horizon, The paths of life, The corridors in night's total darkness, The corners of the bare days... I've wandered along them all, With my relentless enemy behind me, Keeping a steady pace, or sitting firmly Like the mountains of snow In the far north. From: Koolpages.com .. ..Top

[Vous devez être inscrit et connecté pour voir cette image] 2009 TS Eliot prize Alan Brownjohn [Vous devez être inscrit et connecté pour voir cette image]Two Poems Adonis [Vous devez être inscrit et connecté pour voir cette image] Derek Walcott appointed professor of poetry Lindesay Irvine [Vous devez être inscrit et connecté pour voir cette image] Mihyar songs ADONIS

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la meilleure romancière arabe l'Algerienne Ahlam Moustaghanmi qui dit nous sommes dans le maghreb les meilleurs du monde Arabe...à remettre en question pour moi les meilleurs sont les palestiniens quoi que je sois Marocain
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English Women Poets and Poems

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