Mohamed Al-Maghout

Mohamed Al-Maghout Poems

Mohamed Al-Maghout Biography

Muhammed al-Maghut (1934- April 3, 2006) (Arabic: محمد الماغوط‎) was a Syrian writer and poet. He was born in Salamiya, Syria. Muhammad Maghout was credited as the father of the Arabic free verse poetry, liberating the Arabic poems from the traditional form and revolutionizing the structure of the poem.[by whom?] He wrote for theater, TV and cinema. Maghut's work combined satire with descriptions of social misery and malaise, illustrating what he viewed as an ethical decline among rulers in the region. Some of his themes included the problems of injustice and totalitarian governments. He co-operated with Syrian actors Dureid Lahham and Nihad Qal'i to produce some of the region's most popular and acclaimed theatrical works, such as Kasak ya Watan (Toast to the homeland) and Ghorbeh (Estrangement). Al-Maghut was also known for his book "I will betray my homeland", a collection of essays. Al-Maghut died at the age of 72 in April 2006.)

The Best Poem Of Mohamed Al-Maghout

The Hill

Do not slap me, destiny,
Metres of smacks already cover my face.
Here I am, while the wind's blowing in the streets,
Charging out of books, dictionaries and taverns
The same way soldiers charge out of trenches.
O centuries, mean like an insect,
You who seduced me with a fan instead of a storm,
With matches instead of volcanos.
I will never forgive you.
I will return to my village, on foot if need be
I will spread, on my arrival, rumours about you.
I will lie down on the grass and beside the ditches
Like a knight exhausted after battle.

Like trained dogs leaping circles of fire
I will cross these gates and windows,
These sleeves and collars,
Flying like a hawk
Above the shyness of virgins
And the suffering of workers
At twilight spreading my wings like a swallow
In search of a virgin land that at the lightest touch
Of a cottage, a palace, an emir or a begger,
Will leap in the air as a wild horse
At the touch of a saddle,
A land that has not existed and will never exist
Except in my notebooks.

All right, century, you have defeated me,
But I will not find in all the Orient
A summit where I can hoist
The flag of my surrender.

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