Mahmoud Darwish

(13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008 / Palestinian)

Mahmoud Darwish Poems

1. Other Berbers Will Come 4/16/2014
2. Neighing At The Slope 4/15/2014
3. Cadence Chooses Me 4/15/2014
4. Psalm Four 4/15/2014
5. A Song And The Sultan 4/15/2014
6. Pride And Fury 4/16/2014
7. Intensive Care Unit 4/16/2014
8. I Will Slog Over This Road 4/15/2014
9. In Egypt, One Hour Isn'T Like Any Other 4/15/2014
10. I Have A Seat In The Abandoned Theater 9/3/2013
11. If I Were Someone Else On The Road... 4/15/2014
12. And They Don'T Ask… 4/15/2014
13. On A Day Like This 4/14/2014
14. No Flag Flutters In The Wind 4/14/2014
15. Slain And Unknown… 4/15/2014
16. A Noun Sentence 4/14/2014
17. Now, As You Awaken… 4/15/2014
18. Psalm Two 4/15/2014
19. I Have The Wisdom Of One Condemned… 9/4/2013
20. If I Were Another 9/3/2013
21. He Embraces His Murderer 4/16/2014
22. They Would Love To See Me Dead 4/16/2014
23. The Promise Of Liberty 4/16/2014
24. Mural 9/3/2013
25. The Cypress Broke 9/3/2013
26. Your Night Is Of Lilac 9/3/2013
27. Psalm One 4/15/2014
28. To My End And To Its End... 4/15/2014
29. Nostalgia To The Light 10/28/2013
30. On A Canaaite Rock At The Dead Sea 4/16/2014
31. I Remember Elsayyab… 4/15/2014
32. Another Day Will Come 4/15/2014
33. Who Am I, Without Exile? 9/3/2013
34. Bread 4/16/2014
35. Remainder Of A Life 4/16/2014
36. Promises Of The Storm 4/15/2014
37. A Man And A Fawn Play Together In A Garden… 4/15/2014
38. The Owl's Night 4/15/2014
39. I See What I Want 4/16/2014
40. Defiance 4/15/2014
Best Poem of Mahmoud Darwish

I Come From There

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep ...

Read the full of I Come From There

Under Siege

Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time
Close to the gardens of broken shadows,
We do what prisoners do,
And what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope.

A country preparing for dawn. We grow less intelligent
For we closely watch the hour of victory:

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