November 02 2 008
Arab poetry
In abundance my love is known by the reading, by the reading in general, since my avidity for knowing and knowing it does not motivate me in a concrete reading. Preferences?, surely I have them and today I will speak about one of them, the poetry. For any of those who read this blog and meet me, I do not believe that it is a surprise, but nevertheless I want to make you participants of an exceptional discovery for me, the Arab poetry … if, between the authors that I have been meeting an authoress has paid powerfully the attention to me, perhaps be that's why, because she is an authoress in a macho and repressive world with the woman, this woman is Joumana Haddad., por supuesto que las tengo y hoy hablare de una de ellas, la poesía. Para algunos de los que leen este blog y me conocen, no creo que sea una sorpresa, pero aun así quiero haceros participes de un descubrimiento para mí excepcional, la poesía Árabe… si, entre los autores que he ido conociendo me ha llamado poderosamente la atención una autora, quizás sea por eso, porque es autora en un mundo machista y represivo con la mujer, esta mujer es Joumana Haddad.
Its bibliography is not very wide like authoress, although also it is much known like translator, since this Lebanese journalist speaks seven languages and this has allowed him to travel round half a world meeting with multitude of authors.
Its released works are: The time of a sleep (1995), Invitation to a secret dinner (1998), Two hands towards the abyss (2000), I have not sinned quite (2004), The comeback of Lilith (2004).
As sample of its poetry I do not want to leave a concrete poem, but phrases with which from its birth up to the actuality she has gone being defined herself.
Extracted of … your life in Photos.
Man and woman I was conceived under the shade of the moon.
Mother I bathe myself in waters of the mystery.
Foreigner I grew and none harvested my wheat.
When I did fruit to myself I knew what was waiting for me.
Mature in two forests.
The desire is my way and the thunderstorm my compass.
With the avidity of the lightning you steal the sleep.
Arrow that returns to the arch.
Generous like a dreamed bosom.
Your humor carpets the secret footpath.
Apple to which no tree gave birth.
Sweet was my laugh and shy my sin.
Beginning that is never fulfilled.
Tender like the vineyard that matures to the sun.
In not made love you anchor.
Of the flute of two thighs it raises my singing.
It is Lilith, goddess of two nights who returns from its exile.
If you like the intense reading, of the double meaning of the words, that it transmits sensations and of the game of the seduction, this authoress can be one more experience.
With this poem I her knew … Blue Tree.
That the night it does not confuse you.
The feminine universe has two mothers: Eva and Lilith.
The daughters of Eva are the rib of someone, complaisant, submissive, silent, they give birth with pain and feel guilty for appeasing its famine with foreign apples.
Lilith's daughters, are done of ordure and dry branches, they like riding astride, they are revealed and they never ask for permission to appease its famine, romp with angels and demons and give birth incessantly, being the proprietors of its destination and of its acts.
I know who there is my mother, the same one that that of Joumana, probably.