Mahmoud Darwish

(13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008 / Palestinian)

Mahmoud Darwish Poems

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

[Hata Bildir]