Maura Silva Era 14 de maio de 1948 quando o presidente da Agência Judaica David Ben-Gurion proclamou em Tel Aviv o Estado de Israel. Assim, o primeiro Estado judeu foi estabelecido em dois mil anos. Na manhã seguinte, 15 de maio, acontece o que conhecemos como Al Nakba (a catástrofe em árabe) e o consequente êxodo de 800 mil palestinos que foram obrigados a abandonar suas casas em decorrência do avanço das tropas israelenses. Não é coincidência a criação do Estado de Israel ser relacionada a uma catástrofe, afinal de contas, essa é a palavra que melhor define sua...Read More
Meio século Um poema de Noha Khalaf Half a Century Nosf Qarn For Half a Century I’ve been looking for you In the torn out pages of old books, In the footsteps of my ancestors, In my scattered papers, In the perfumes of my grandmother In my mother’s photos, And under my pillows. Dressed in their old worn gowns I reconstituted my scattered life So I could encounter you only in dreams And through the smiles of my love, And in the melancholic melody Of my exile. I saw you Defying my life By your silence Defying my...Read More
Entre as rosas Um poema de Noha Khalaf Among the Roses Bayn al Weroud No no! I do not want to disappear Beyond existence I would like to remain here Among the roses. Despite this burning sun Despite this bitter cold And despite all this mediocrity I would like to remain here Dancing, dancing Among the roses. And if I fall in autumn With the dead leaves I shall return in spring With the troops of gypsies To enjoy the rays of sunshine And the light of the moon To enjoy the sounds Of an enchanted flute and a...Read More
Folhas de dispersão Um poema de Noha Khalaf Leaves of dispersion ‘awraq al shatat’ This is not a collection of poems These are just scattered leaves Lost in airports, highways, ports and alleys. I have tried to save some of them from the destruction of tanks Some drowned in the depths of the seas Others were torn under the dust. These leaves pursue me at all times Like an unending falling rain They carry me away with the wind, Then their weight pulls me down into shifting desert sands. I carried a few in bags made of rags Through...Read More
Minha mãe é de Jaffa Um poema de Noha Khalaf My Mother Comes from Jaffa Omi min Yafa I entered the empty house, In devastated lands, To collect the remains of our pains and joys, After your departure. I looked at the dreams and memories inscribed In our old photographs, Dispersed in drawers thousands of miles away from your birthplace. I sought in vain to find under the dust And among the scraps of papers and pencils, Traces of your will and testament. Finding nothing, I then decided to penetrate into the depths of your soul, To understand...Read More
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