Mahmoud Darwish Poems

Who am I to say to you
what I say to you?
I was not a stone polished by water
and became a face
nor was I a cane punctured by the wind
and became a flute...

I am a dice player,
...

He embraces his murderer.
May he win his heart: Do you feel angrier if I survive?
...

Between Rita and my eyes
There is a rifle
And whoever knows Rita
Kneels and plays
To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes.
And I kissed Rita
...

I have a seat in the abandoned theater
in Beirut. I might forget, and I might recall
the final act without longing … not because of anything
other than that the play was not written
skillfully …
...

I am a woman. No more and no less
I live my life as it is
thread by thread
and I spin my wool to wear, not
to complete Homer's story, or his sun.
...

The enemy who drinks tea in our hovel
has a horse in smoke, a daughter with
...

A passenger on the bus says…
nothing impresses me.
...

I see what I want in the farm ... right now I see
braids of wheat combed by the wind, and I close my eyes
...

I am Yousuf, O father.
O father, my brothers do not love me nor want me among them.
They assault me and throw stones and words at me
They want me to die so they can eulogize me.
...

With dynamite she raps her waist…
She explodes…
...