الثلاثاء، 28 ديسمبر 2010


31/5/10 - Written by Mark

Today, while driving through town, I wound up behind a minivan that had a big sticker on the back. The sticker had an Israeli flag in the middle of it and under it the quotation from the book of Genesis that reads "I will bless those who bless thee." 

I would like to take this time to list my own reasons for thanking and blessing Israel, our lone ally in the Middle East, for everything she has done for us, since I am quite sure most Americans are unaware of just what kind of friend she has been to us.

For extorting from me and my fellow Americans $16,000,000,000 (billion) a year for the last 4 decades, we bless thee.

For taking our most sophisticated weapons technology and stealing it for yourself without paying the American Patent Holders, we bless thee.

For taking that high-tech military technology and selling it to our enemies,such as the Russians and Chinese, thus further endangering us, we bless thee. 

For using that weaponry in a sustained attack against a United States Ship, the USS Liberty, in an attempt to sink her, thus preventing US Servicemen from revealing to the rest of the world information concerning the War Crimes they witnessed you commit against Egyptian Soldiers in the Sinai Desert during the Six Day War, we bless thee.

For killing 35 and wounding 170 American Sailors aboard the USS Liberty, we bless thee.
For bribing the United States Government into covering it up, preventing any justice from being done for the benefit of the families of the lost sailors - as well as the American People, we bless thee.

For sending your Agents into Egypt and blowing up American Buildings for the purpose of blaming the Arabs in an event known as the Lavon Affair, we bless thee.

For sending your agents into Libya during the Reagan Administration, and broadcasting radio messages in Arabic that were designed to sound like "terrorist cell planning" so that the US would initiate military strikes against Ghaddafi, we bless thee.

For withholding information from us concerning the planned attacks against the US Marine Barracks in Lebanon, attacks you knew about through your moles in the Islamic World and about which you deliberately refused to warn us in order to further your interests against the Arabs, we bless thee.

For employing Jonathon Pollard, an American Serviceman paid to spy for Israel in order to steal even more of our National Security Secrets for your parasitic purposes, we bless thee.

For blackmailing President Clinton through one of your intelligence agents, Monica Lewinsky, in order to prevent a coherent Peace Program from being pushed forward between yourself and the Palestinian People that you have brutalized and murdered for the last 50 years, we bless thee.

For breaking every agreement you have made with your Arab Neighbors, stealing their land, displacing, murdering, and treating them like the animals you see them as, we bless thee.

For using your Agents within the first Bush Administration to involve us in the First Gulf War, causing the deaths of American men and women, and exposing our Servicemen to whatever bio weapons were/are responsible that has led to Gulf War Syndrome, we bless thee.

For your role in the September 11 attacks in this Country, and for blackmailing and bribing the US Government into deporting back to Israel the 100 or more Intelligence Agents that were arrested after the attacks, we bless thee.

For suppressing the information from the American People of your involvement in the September 11 attacks and sending us in the wrong direction in search of answers, we bless thee.

For using one of your Agents in the US Army Weapons Lab, Lt Colonel Philip Zack to steal Anthrax and distribute it into our Mail System, terrorizing US Citizens and killing several in order to blame the Arabs, we bless thee.

For using your Agents in the US Government, namely, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, Perle, Abrams, and the rest into initiating this War in the Middle East so that you could bring to heel all the enemies you have made during the last 50 years, we bless thee.

For using your Agents in the Media to lie to us on a minute by minute basis about the War, how "just" this cause is, and what the real reasons behind it are, we bless thee.

For using your Agents in the Christian Evangelical Community, such as Falwell, Graham, Swaggert, and the rest who praise you as God's chosen people and further keep Americans in the dark about who you really are, what you have done, and what you are truly about, we bless thee.

For bringing idiots like Limbaugh, Liddy, Hannity, Beck, and Savage to the forefront as paid liars that will support you and further lead Americans astray, we bless thee.
For making America your attack dog, and for sending her sons and daughters to fight and die in all your future wars, we bless thee.

For using your influence in the Media to hide the real statistics about the War, the dead and wounded on both sides, we bless thee.

For using us in such a way that not only further inflames the Arab World against us, but as well has succeeded in our alienating ourselves against those nations with whom we have been friendly for over a Century, we bless thee.

And finally, for using your influence in our Media and Academia to flood our minds with Pornography and Lies, as well as inculcating in us a hatred for our History, Religion, and Culture, for dividing our Nation between races and sexes, and for releasing into our Society all of your plagues and filth that have left us a Rotted out Corpse of a once great Nation, oh Israel, our friend, we bless thee.

Note: For further information regarding the above cited events, read either books written by ex- Israeli Intelligence agent Victor Ostrovsky entitled "By Way of Deception" and "The Other Side of Deception". 
Mark Glenn

Mark Glenn is a writer for American Free Press Newspaper since Jan. 2007 and along with Hesham Tillawi a co-founder of the Crescent and Cross Solidarity Movement, the website of which can be found at http://www.crescentandcross.com/.
Crescent and Cross.com
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[HOLYLANDERS] A Bethlehem Christmas wish‏

Bethlehem is also the place where an undercover Israeli soldier shot me five times in my chest and back, and kicked me repeatedly until I lost consciousness. It was the place where the last words I heard from my oppressor were: "After all that I did, you are still alive?" I guess by living, even with injuries that require me to use a wheelchair, I am disappointing him. So living, along with loving my country and my people, is what I will continue to do, and real peace is what I will continue to seek.

Let our Christmas message be a message of real peace and real love, the message of love that Jesus brought to the world, and the wisdom he spoke of. Maybe then peace will prevail, occupation will end and the people can live together in justice and equality.

But Christ who said “Bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” St Matthew… Would certainly exclude that Zionist soldier and his other Zionist ilk, they do not deserve it or be in this world…

A Bethlehem Christmas wish
Saed Bannoura
writing from Portland, the US, Live from Palestine, 16 December 2010

More than 2,000 years ago, a miracle happened in Bethlehem and the prophet of peace, love and forgiveness was born. Now Bethlehem, as well as every other Palestinian city, town and refugee camp, still lives under occupation and oppression. If am allowed to make some wishes for this Christmas this is what they would be:

I wish that the spirit of this Christmas will make world leaders become unable to lie, unable to stand in front of TV cameras, in conferences, and tell one lie after another.

I wish that US President Barack Obama, who was seen as a symbol of change and hope, will come back to his senses and tell the truth.

I know politicians and truth are on opposite ends of the spectrum and rarely can they be on the same side. But it's Christmas after all and maybe we will have our own miracle today and world leaders will not be able to lie anymore.

We all know the Ten Commandments and what they instruct us to do or not to do, but maybe presidents and government officials are brainwashed before they take office in order to fit their new positions, in which they must lie to their people and to the whole world with a nice smile on their faces.

Jesus was born in Bethlehem, yet Bethlehem -- the place where I was born and raised my whole life before
moving to the United States several years ago -- is not witnessing peace, and the star that the shepherds followed more than 2,000 years ago is fading away.

Bethlehem is also the place where an undercover Israeli soldier shot me five times in my chest and back, and kicked me repeatedly until I lost consciousness. It was the place where the last words I heard from my oppressor were: "After all that I did, you are still alive?" I guess by living, even with injuries that require me to use a wheelchair, I am disappointing him. So living, along with loving my country and my people, is what I will continue to do, and real peace is what I will continue to seek.

Christmas is near, in Bethlehem and everywhere else around the world, and this means that we will continue to hear world leaders and politicians standing, once again, in front of the cameras and lying.
We will hear talk of peace and justice, but in Palestine we will continue to witness crimes and occupation.
"Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God" (Matthew 5:9). Leaders must not be among those blessed, because while they claim to seek peace, in truth they are only motivated by political gains and the next round of elections.

Due to the fact that I do not believe that there is a living leader who does not lie on a daily basis, I want to send my message to ordinary people who live their lives, day by day, trying to make ends meet.
The hope and change is in you, not in world leaders. You are the salt of the earth, you have the power to tell your elected politicians that it is about time to stop lying.

Tell them we do not want another Christmas lie, we want a real Christmas truth, not even a miracle, just the truth.

Let our Christmas message be a message of real peace and real love, the message of love that Jesus brought to the world, and the wisdom he spoke of. Maybe then peace will prevail, occupation will end and the people can live together in justice and equality.

Saed Bannoura is a Palestinian journalist who helped create the International Middle East Media Center (IMEMC.org) in Bethlehem in the occupied West Bank, and currently works as the center's Editor-in-Chief. Despite having been shot and paralyzed by Israeli special forces in 1991, Saed Bannoura has spent his adult life working for peace and justice through nonviolence.

حانوكا الحرائق الخفية عن العين

حانوكا: الحرائق الخفية عن العين
من الصحافة العبرية

الكاتب : يديعوت أحرونوت ـ مقال ـ 9/12/2010

بقلم: يونتان لفين

إني أشم شيئاً، أفلا تشمون أنتم؟ لحظة، أنا لا أتخيل، حقاً توجد هنا رائحة... محروقة. شيء ما يحترق، وأنا لا اقصد الحرائق التي اندلعت الأسبوع الماضي، هذا احتراق آخر. يخيل لي أن هذه رائحة حريق لا نراها بعد، بل حتى لم يشتعل بعد. رائحة الحرائق الخفية عن العين، إذ يدور الحديث على ما يبدو عن آلفي ـ ثلاثة، حد أقصى أربعة آلاف بؤرة إحراق متأخرة.

هذه رائحة نكراء على نحو خاص، فكيف لا تشمون؟! ليست رائحة مواد كيماوية ولا بلاستيكية. ربما ورقية. نعم، ورق تطبع عليه الكتب، هذا هو. حريق كتب، وبالأساس نشر كتب، وبعض اللحم، الذي يشوى كما اعتقد مع هذه الكتب. ولا بد أن هذه شعلة هائلة لاني اشم انه يحرقون هناك الثقافة بشكل عام (على نار هادئة، كيفما اتفق). ليس فقط الثقافة التي نستهلكها (المسرح، السينما، الموسيقى)، بل بشكل عام ـ الثقافة الاجتماعية الأساسية. نعم، هذه ليست فقط رائحة أرض مشتعلة، بل ورائحة نمط حياة مشتعل.

أنا أشم الانتفاضة الثالثة، ربما الرابعة، التي تشتعل منذ الآن. رائحة شديدة من الخوف، من الباصات المتفجرة، من النار الحية والمواطنين العرب الموتى. رائحة احتراق الإدارة السليمة تحت رعاية جبابرة المال. ومرة أخرى رائحة الورق. آه، ذاك الذي طبعت عليه استنتاجات لجان التحقيق. الكثير من الورق، الكثير من اللجان. ومزيد من الورق. المال. لا، ليس ذاك الذي يغلف فيه البطاطا بل المال الحقيقي، الضرائب التي تحترق على شيء لا أنجح حقا في معرفته. آه، واضح: قانون التسويات وقانون الطلاب الدينيين وكل أنواع القوانين المتذاكية الأخرى.

أشم احتجاجا هائلا من سليلي إثيوبيا، ولكن هذا سيحصل فقط بعد 15 سنة، بحيث أنه يمكن الجلوس لنيل الدفء أمام شعلة الترهات. أشم الأبخرة الخانقة للجهل، الغباء والسطحية، العفن الذي يأتي من الجيش الإسرائيلي المتبجح، الصفقة في الحزب، الرشوة في الانتخابات التالية، الاتفاق الائتلافي الذي سيحرقنا جميعنا مستقبلا، رائحة المطاط المحترق التي ستخلفها إطارات سيارات الوزراء في الحكومة المنتفخة التالية والرائحة للإطارات المشتعلة للمتظاهرين المقالين.

أشم السجائر الرخيصة للطلاب الفقراء الذين يضطرون إلى دفع الضريبة كي لا يتمكن مستغلو الدولة ومتبطلوها، لا سمح الله من تحريك ساكن والمساهمة بنصيبهم. أشم رائحة الرعاع الذين يأتون إلى الكنيست، يطالبون برؤوس متدحرجة (ولكن هذا سيستغرق زمنا، حين لن يكون لنا ما نأكله). أشم الثورة، الحرب الأهلية، النظام العسكري، الطاغية. أمل جلعاد شاليت يتبدد.
أشم كل شيء. الاصطفائية البيروقراطية العتيقة، منشآت التأهيل المهجورة جراء هوس التجميد وإزالته. أشم مئات آلاف الإسرائيليين الذين يهاجرون من البلاد، ليورثوها إلى فقرائها، أشم كل هذا. من حظنا أنه توجد سوبر تانكر.

The Unseen Hanukkah fires

The Unseen Hanukkah fires
By: Jonathan Levin
Yedioth Ahronoth  9/12/2010

Translated from Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

I smell something, Don’t you? I am not imagining, really there is a smell here… burning, something is burning, I don’t mean the fire that broke out last week, this is another fire. It seems to me the smell of another fire that we don’t see, it even didn’t start burning yet, The smell of a fire that didn’t break out yet. The smell of an unforeseen yet, speaking about, as it seems about two-three thousand, at most four thousand points of late fire.

This is a specially nasty smelling fire, how in hell you don’t smell? It is not the smell of burning chemical or plastic products. May be paper. Yes may be paper on which books are printed, it is, basically publishing books, and some flesh, that is grilled, as I believe, with these books, certainly that it is a great mighty torch, because I smell that they are burning culture in general there (on a light fire, as it happened). Not only the culture we consume (The stage, cinema… music) but in general – the basic social culture, yes, it is not only the smell of a burning land, but the smell of a mode of a burning life.
Jonathan Levin  Yedioth Ahronoth

I smell the third Intifadah, may be the fourth, that started burning from now. A strong smell of fear, from exploding busses, from a living fire and dead Arab citizens, the smell of the burning of a sound administration  under the control of the giants of money. Another time the smell of paper. Ah… it is that paper on which the results of investigations committees were printed on, a lot of paper , many committees. And more paper. Money. No, not that with which potatoes are wrapped with, but real money, taxes that are burned on something that I cannot succeed in recognizing. Ah, clear: It is the law of adjustments and the law of religious students, and all the laws that pretend to be clever.

I smell a great protest coming from the descendents of Ethiopia, but it shall take place only after 15 years, maybe it is sitting down resting to get some warmth in front of the torch of triviality. I smell the chocking vapors of ignorance, stupidity, foolishness and shallowness and decay that comes from the bragging Israeli army, the deals in the party, bribery in the forthcoming elections, the coalition agreement that shall burn us all in the future, the smell of the burning rubber tires of the ministers in the coming puffed up government and the smell of the burning tires of the deposed demonstrators.

I smell the poor students’ smoke of cheap cigarettes who are obliged to pay taxes so that the unemployed and the exploiters of the state shall not be able to take a move, God forbids, that they can take part in smelling the mobs who come to the Knesset demanding rolling heads). But this will take time, when there shall be nothing for us to eat) I smell revolution, civil war, military rule, the tyrant, Gilad Shalit’s hope is evaporating. (What about that of nine, ten or eleven thousand Palestinian Arab men, women and infants who had been rotting some for thirty long years in the occupation prisons in occupied Palestine… is he, Gilad Shalit worth more than all of them and more???!!!)

I smell everything. The old selective bureaucracy, the deserted rehabilitation establishments because of the hypomania of freezing and its removal. I smell hundreds of thousands deserting the country, to bequeath it to its poor, I smell all of that. It is our luck that there are supertankers

الأحد، 26 ديسمبر 2010

مينورا حانوكا

مينورا حانوكا

حانوكا أو هانوكا عيد الأنوار (بالعبرية: חנכה أو חנוכה, وكذلك חג האורים بالانجليزية: Hanukkah أو Chanukah) هو عيد يهودي يحتفل به اليهود لمدة 8 أيام ابتداء من الخامس والعشرين من شهر كيسليف حسب التقويم العبري، ويتراوح موعده حسب التقويم الميلادي بين الأسبوع الأخير من شهر نوفمبر والأسبوع الأخير من شهر ديسمبر. حانوكا هو من الأعياد اليهودية الصغيرة حيث لا يعتبر عطلة بل فترة سعيدة فقط، تتميز بالامتناع عن الحداد والتعبير عن الحزن، والقيام ببعض الطقوس الدينية الخاصة.
يستمر عيد الأنوار ثمانية أيام وتوقد في مساء كل يوم من أيامه شموع بأعداد متزايدة كل يوم في شمعدان معد خصوصاً لذلك الغرض. يتم إضاءة شمعة واحدة في اليوم الأول، ثم شمعة ثانية في مساء اليوم الثاني وهكذا حتى تكتمل إضاءة الشموع الثمانية.
تتلى عند إيقاد تلك الشموع صلاة شكر للإله لنصرته اليهود في عهد الأسرة الحشمونية (المكابيين) في تمردهم على الدولة السلوقية حاكمة المشرق حينها، تحت قيادة انطيوخوس الرابع عام 167 ق.م، وقد قام اليهود بهذا التمرد الذي استمر ثلاث سنوات، لما تعرضوا من تعذيب وتنديس لمقدساتهم إثر تحالفهم مع البطالمة أعداء الدولة السلوقية التابعين لها.
معنى اسم حانوكا هو "تدشين" باللغة العبرية، ويشير هذا الاسم إلى تدشين هيكل سليمان من جديد بعد ترميمه على يد الحشمونيين إثر نجاح التمرد.
ترد قصة تدشين الهيكل في سفر المكابين الأول (4: 51-57) وفي كتاب "تأريخ اليهود" للمؤرخ اليهودي الروماني يوسيفوس فلافيوس (الفصل ال12)، أما التلمود فيذكر هذه القصة ويضيف إليها شرحا لعدد أيام العيد، حيث يقول إن أيام العيد الثمانية تشير إلى معجزة حدثت للحشمونيين عند تدشين الهيكل واستمرت 8 أيام. حسب التلمود لم يبق في الهيكل ما يكفي من الزيت الصالح لإيقاد الشمعدان المقدس، وبرغم ذلك فإنه أنار الهيكل 8 أيام بالكمية القليلة من الزيت الباقي حتى تم تخضير الزيت الجديد. كذلك يذكر التلمود سببا آخر للاحتفال بالعيد عندما لاحظ آدم لأول مرة تقليص ساعات النهار في ذروة الشتاء فخاف ودعا إلى الله ليعيد نور الشمس. بعد مرور 8 أيام لاحظ أن النهار يمتد من جديد فقرر جعل هذه الأيام موعد فرح وشكر لله.
يذكر التراث اليهودي سببين للاحتفال بعيد الأنوار، السبب الرئيسي هو إعلان المعجزة التي حدثت لليهود حسب التراث اليهودي بعد نجاح التمرد على الدولة السلوقية.



From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Hanukkah (Hebrew: חֲנֻכָּה, Tiberian: Ḥănukkāh, nowadays usually spelled חנוכה pronounced [χanuˈka] in Modern Hebrew, also romanized as Chanukah or Chanuka), also known as the Festival of Lights is an eight-day Jewish holiday commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple (the Second Temple) in Jerusalem at the time of the Maccabean Revolt of the 2nd century BCE. Hanukkah is observed for eight nights and days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Hebrew calendar, which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar.
The festival is observed by the kindling of the lights of a unique candelabrum, the nine-branched Menorah or Hanukiah, one additional light on each night of the holiday, progressing to eight on the final night. The typical Menorah consists of 8 branches with an additional raised branch. The extra light is called a shamash (Hebrew: שמש, "attendant" or "sexton")[1] and is given a distinct location, usually above or below the rest. The purpose of the shamash is to have a light available for use, as using the Hanukkah lights themselves is forbidden.[2]



Edvard Munch tried to represent "an infinite scream passing through nature" in The Scream (1893)
Angst is a German, Danish, Norwegian and Dutch word for fear, anxiety or rage. (Anguish is its Latinate equivalent.) It is used in English to describe an intense feeling of oppression, anxiety or inner turmoil. The term Angst distinguishes itself from the word Furcht (German for "fear") in that Furcht usually refers to a material threat (arranged fear), while Angst is usually a nondirectional emotion.[dubious ]
In other languages having the meaning of the Latin word pavor, the derived words differ in meaning, e.g. as in the French anxiété and peur. The word Angst has existed since the 8th century, from the Proto-Indo-European root *anghu-, "restraint" from which Old High German angust developed. It is pre-cognate with the Latin angustia, "tensity, tightness" and angor, "choking, clogging"; compare to the Greek "άγχος" (ankhos): stress.

As'ad AbuKhalil, born March 16, 1960. From Tyre, Lebanon, grew up in Beirut. Received his BA and MA from American University of Beirut in pol sc. Came to US in 1983 and received his PhD in comparative government from Georgetown University. Taught at Tufts University, Georgetown University, George Washington University, Colorado College, and Randolph-Macon Woman's College. Served as a Scholar-in-Residence at Middle East Institute in Washington DC. He served as free-lance Middle East consultant for NBC News and ABC News, an experience that only served to increase his disdain for maintream US media. He is now professor of political science at California State University, Stanislaus and visiting professor at UC, Berkeley. His favorite food is fried eggplants

The Angry Arab News Service

The Angry Arab News Service

“Arabs angst* about Iran's nuclear ambitions has been exposed”

Swiss army knives as a danger to Arab regimes


This must be the dumbest analysis there is.  Look at this passage:  "angst* about Iran's nuclear ambitions has been exposed, perhaps giving the United States greater leverage in international talks scheduled for next week." Arab angst about Iran's nuclear ambitions?  Are you kidding me?  Do you really think that Iran nuclear efforts are not wildly popular throughout the Arab and Muslim world-without distinction between Sunnis and Shi`ites?  Any one who does not believe that, does know know potato about Arab politics and has not been following public opinion surveys in the region.  You think if Iran is bombed, the Arab public will stand with those who bomb Iran?  Really?  You think that Israel arsenal of WMDs are popular among Arabs/Muslims and are not seen as a matter of grave concern?  Of course, it is convenient for the Zionists in the US media to conflate Arab regimes and Arab people to advance Israel's interests in US foreign policies.  Like Arab regimes are not the puppets who they are and would not go along with every machination cooked up by US and Israel?  If the Zionists in DC were to claim that Switzerland is a danger to Israel and that something should be done about it, Arab polygamous rulers would stand in line and claim that the Swiss Army Knife is a source of instability in the region. Sons of...Zayid and Sons of... `Abdul-`Aziz would even offer themselves as suicide bombers against Switzerland.  When the Zionists find it convenient, they seem to forget that they are dealing with Arab dictators--just as they forgot that important fact about Anwar Sadat.  Luckily, the Egyptian people did not forget that Sadat is a dictator.

سكين "عويسية" الجيش السويسري الصغيرة تهدد الأنظمة العربية

سكين "عويسية" الجيش السويسري الصغيرة تهدد الأنظمة العربية

العناء النفسي العربي" بالنسبة لطموح إيران النووي قد فضح"
السبت 4 كانون الثاني 2010
ترجمة: أديب قعوار

هذه يجب أن تكون أكثر التحليلات عجمة: "العناء النفسي العربي" بالنسبة لطموحات إيران النووية قد فضحت، ربما نظراً لتفوق الولايات المتحدة في المباحثات الدولية المبرمجة للأسبوع المقبلnext week.).) " حول طموحات إيران النووية؟ هل تهزأ مني؟ هل حقاً تعتد أن جهود إيران النووية لا تلقى الاستحسان عبر الوطن العربي والعالم الإسلامي بدون أي فارق بين السنة والشيعة؟ وكل من لا يؤمن بذلك فهو لا يفهم أي شيء عن السياسة العربية ويشك بمتابعته لنتائج مسح الرأي العام في المنطقة. هل تعتقد أنه لو قصفت إيران فإن العرب سيقفون خلف ويدعمون من قصفها؟ هل هذا صحيح؟  هل تعتقد أن الترسانة "الإسرائيلية" لأسلحة الدمار الشامل محببة بين العرب والمسلمين ولا ينظرون إليها كتهديد كبير لهم؟ بالتأكيد، من السهل بالنسبة لوسائل الإعلام الصهيونية في الولايات المتحدة أن تدفع الأنظمة العربية والشعب العربي أن تدعم المصالح "الإسرائيلية" في السياسات الأمريكية الخارجية. إنهم ليسوا سواسية مثل الأنظمة العربية التي تسير وفق ما تطبخه الولايات المتحدة و"إسرائيل"؟ إذا ما ادعى الصهاينة في واشنطن دس أن سويسرا تشكل خطراً وجودياً على إسرائيل وإنه يجب أن تتخذ الإجراءات اللازمة لمواجهته، فإن الحكام العرب متعددي الزوجات سيقفون بالصف ويدعون أن سكين "عويسية" الجيش السويسري تشكل مصدراً لعدم الاستقرار في المنطقة. وإن بعضهم يتطوعون للقيام بعمليات انتحارية ضد سويسرا. عدما يرى الصهاينة أنه من المناسب فإنهم يتناسون بأنهم يتعاملون مع دكتاتوريون عرب—كما تناسوا هذه الحقيقة العظيمة الأهمية بال, بالنسبة لأنور السادات، ولكنه من حسن الحظ أن الشعب العربي في مصر لم ينس أن السادات كان دكتاتور.
نشرها "أسعد"

This is Turkey… The former ally of the Zionist state due to US pressure!!!

This is Turkey… The former ally of the Zionist state due to US pressure!!!

Turkey vows reaction to Israel threat:

"Does (Israel) think it can enter Lebanon with the most modern aircraft and tanks to kill women and children, and destroy schools and hospitals, and then expect us to remain silent?" AFP quoted him as saying in the Lebanese capital of Beirut.
Read more at: http://www.presstv.ir/detail/152617.html__._,_.___
»Back to Story

Turkey vows reaction to Israel threat

Erdogan described Israel as full of "uncertainties" and said, "It is not definite what it will do." He further warned of the prospects of such hostilities, Turkey's state Anatolia news agency (AA) reported on Thursday.
"Does (Israel) think it can enter Lebanon with the most modern aircraft and tanks to kill women and children, and destroy schools and hospitals, and then expect us to remain silent?" AFP quoted him as saying in the Lebanese capital of Beirut.

The Turkish leader is currently on a two-day visit to the country aimed at strengthening the bilateral ties and voicing support for Beirut in the face of a volatile international situation.

"We will not be silent and we will support justice by all means available to us."
Ankara has opposed the last round of Tel Aviv's offensives on southern Lebanon, which killed around 1,200 Lebanese, most of them civilians in 2006.

"In the event of war, the citizens of Israel will also be losers," the Turkish leader warned.
The Lebanese resistance movement of Hezbollah, which defeated Israel in the 33-day hostilities and headed off Tel Aviv's offensives on the country in 2000, has vowed to respond with determination to any future Israel-launched warfare.

The resistance movement has publicly announced that it has the capability to hit targets deep inside Israel and to strike Israeli Navy vessels even before they reach the Lebanese waters.
The Middle East is passing through a sensitive period, Erdogan said, and called for "unity and integrity" among regional countries.

He insisted that Israel "must realize that if there is peace and security in the region, it will also benefit."

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السبت، 4 ديسمبر 2010


نازك الملائكة

أطفئ  الشمعةَ  واتركنا   غريبَيْنِ   هنـا
نحنُ  جُزءانِ  من الليلِ  فما  معنى   السنا?
 يسقطُ الضوءُ على وهمينِ في جَفنِ المساءْ
يسقطُ الضوءُ على بعضِ شظايا من رجاءْ
سُمّيتْ نحنُ وأدعوها  أنا:
مللاً. نحن هنا مثلُ الضياءْ

اللقاء  الباهتُ   الباردُ   كاليومِ   المطيـرِ
كان  قتلاً  لأناشيدي  وقبرًا   لشعـوري
دقّتِ الساعةُ  في  الظلمةِ  تسعًا  ثم  عشرا
وأنا من ألمي أُصغي وأُحصي. كنت حَيرى
أسألُ  الساعةَ  ما  جَدْوى   حبوري
إن نكن نقضي الأماسي, أنتَ أَدْرى,

مرّتِ الساعاتُ كالماضي يُغشّيها  الذُّبولُ
كالغدِ المجهولِ لا أدري  أفجرٌ  أم  أصيلُ
مرّتِ الساعاتُ والصمتُ كأجواءِ الشتاءِ
خلتُهُ  يخنق  أنفاسي  ويطغى  في  دمائي
خلتهُ يَنبِسُ في نفسي يقولُ
أنتما تحت  أعاصيرِ  المساءِ

أطفئ الشمعةَ  فالرُّوحانِ  في  ليلٍ كثيفِ
يسقطُ النورُ على وجهينِ في لون الخريف
أو لا  تُبْصرُ ?  عينانا  ذبـولٌ  وبـرودٌ
أوَلا  تسمعُ ? قلبانا  انطفاءٌ   وخُمـودُ
صمتنا أصداءُ إنذارٍ  مخيفِ
ساخرٌ من أننا سوفَ نعودُ

نحن من جاء بنا اليومَ ? ومن أين  بدأنـا ?
 لم يكنْ يَعرفُنا  الأمسُ  رفيقين .. فدَعنـا
نطفرُ الذكرى كأن لم تكُ يومًا من صِبانا
 بعضُ حـبٍّ  نزقٍ  طافَ  بنا  ثم  سلانا
آهِ لو نحنُ رَجَعنا حيثُ كنا
 قبلَ أن نَفنَى وما زلنا كلانا

بطاقة تعريف الكاتبة الكبيرة: نازك الملائكة

ولدت الشاعر نازك الملائكة في بغداد، العراق، في 23 – 8 – 1923 . ونشأت في بيت علمٍ وأدب ، في رعاية أمها الشاعرة سلمى عبد الرزاق أم نزار الملائكة وأبيها الأديب الباحث صادق الملائكة فتربَّت على الدعة وهُيئتْ لها أسباب الثقافة. وقد قضت أعوام صباها مع أسرتها.

وقد فرت الشاعرة من العراق في أواخر الخمسينات خوفاً من تفشي العنف الثوري  في تلك المرحلة.
لنازك الملائكة قصائد مشهورة، وأعمال نقدية معروفة، وقصص. وبعض نصوص السيرة الذاتية.
وقد قام المجلس الأعلى للثقافة بنشر أعمال الشاعرة الكاملة أخيرا في القاهرة. 

وما أن أكملتْ دراستها الثانوية حتى انتقلت إلى دار المعلمين العالية وتخرجت فيها عام 1944 بدرجة امتياز ،
 ثم توجهت إلى الولايات المتحدة الأمريكية للاستزادة من معين اللغة الانكليزية وآدابها عام
1950 بالإضافة إلى آداب اللغة العربية التي أُجيزت فيها .
 عملت أستاذة مساعدة في كلية التربية في جامعة البصرة .

تجيد من اللغات الإنجليزية والفرنسية والألمانية واللاتينية ، بالإضافة إلى اللغة العربية ،
وتحمل شهادة الليسانس باللغة العربية من كلية التربية ببغداد ، والماجستير في الأدب المقارن من جامعة وسكونس أميركا .
مثّلت العراق في مؤتمر الأدباء العرب المنعقد في بغداد عام 1965 .

لها من الشعر المجموعات الشعرية التالية:

عاشقة الليل  صدر عام 1947.  
شظايا ورماد  صدر عام 1949.
قرارة الموجة  صدر عام 1957.
شجرة القمر  صدر عام 1965.
مأساة الحياة وأغنية للإنسان  صدر عام 1977 .
للصلاة والثورة  صدر عام 1978.
يغير ألوانه البحر  طبع عدة مرات.
الأعمال الكاملة - مجلدان - ( عدة طبعات ).

ولها من الكتب:

قضايا الشعر المعاصر.
التجزيئية في المجتمع العربي.
الصومعة والشرفة الحمراء.
سيكولوجية الشعر.

كتبت عنها دراسات عديدة ورسائل جامعية متعددة في الكثير من الجامعات العربية والغربية.
نشرت ديوانها الأول " عاشقة الليل " في عام 1947 وكانت تسود قصائده مسحة من الحزن العميق فكيفما اتجهنا في ديوان عاشقة الليل لا نقع إلا على مأتم، ولا نسمع إلا أنيناً وبكاءً ، وأحياناً تفجعاً وعويلاً " وهذا القول لمارون عبود.

ثم نشرت ديوانها الثاني شظايا ورماد في عام 1949،
وثارت حوله ضجة عارمة حسب قولها في قضايا الشعر المعاصر

وتنافست بعد ذلك مع بدر شاكر السياب حول أسبقية كتابة الشعر الحر، وادعى كل منهما انه اسبق من صاحبه،
وانه أول من كتب الشعر الحر ونجد نازك تقول في كتابها قضايا الشعر المعاصر " كانت بداية حركة الشعر الحر سنة 1947، ومن العراق ، بل من بغداد نفسها ، زحفت هذه الحركة وامتدت حتى غمرت الوطن العربي كله وكادت ، بسبب تطرف الذين استجابوا لها تجرف أساليب شعرنا العربي الأخرى جميعاً، وكانت أول قصيدة حرة الوزن تُنشر قصيدتي المعنونة " الكوليرا " وهي من الوزن المتدارك ( الخبب). ويبدو أنها كانت متحمسة في قرارها هذا ثم لم تلبث أن استدركت بعض ما وقعت فيه من أخطاء في مقدمة الطبعة الخامسة من كتابها المذكور فقالت :عام 1962 صدر كتابي هذا ، وفيه حكمتُ أن الشعر الحر قد طلع من العراق ومنه زحف إلى أقطار الوطن العربي ولم أكن يوم أقررت هذا الحكم أدري أن هناك شعراً حراً قد نظم في العالم العربي قبل سنة 1947 سنة نظمي لقصيدة (الكوليرا) ثم فوجئت بعد ذلك بأن هناك قصائد حرة معدودة قد ظهرت في المجلات الأدبية والكتب منذ سنة 1932، وهو أمر عرفته من كتابات الباحثين والمعلقين لأنني لم أقرأ بعد تلك القصائد في مصادرها ".


By: Nazik Al-Malaikah

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

Put off the candle and leave us strangers here
We are two parts of the night, so what is the meaning of light?
Light falls on two fancies under the eyelids of the evening
Light falls on some shrapnel’s of hope
I was called we and I call me I:
Hot ashes. We are here like light

The pale cold gathering is like a cold day
It was a murder for my anthems and a grave for my feelings
The clock rang in the darkness nine and then ten
And I with my pain hear and count. I was puzzled
Asking the clock what is the meaning of my happiness
If we spend the evenings, you know better…

Hours passed like in the past covered with withering
Like the unknown tomorrow, I don’t know is it dawn or dusk?
The hours passed and silence is like winter weather
Don’t you see? Our eyes are withering and cold
As if it is strangling me and oppressing my blood
 As if uttering in me and saying
You two are under the storms of the evening

Put off the candle, the two souls are in a thick night
Light falls on two faces colored like autumn
Don’t you see? Our eyes are withering and coldness
Don’t you hear? Our hearts are extension and extinguishing
Our silence is the echo of a frightening warning
Sarcastic from that we will return

We who brought us today? From where did we start?
Yesterday didn’t know we are comrades… Let us
Expel the memory as if it had never been from our youth
Some rash love passed by and forgot us
Oh… Wish we return where we where
Before we vanish and we are still

My Beloved

My Beloved

Poetizing by: Ghassan Mattar
Translate by: Adib S. Kawar

My beloved I heard your message... it is full with glory and faith
You are as you said... God's men on earth
The candid promise you are... And you are our coming victory
You are from the mountains of the sun... highhanded  against the   tyrannical
By you our war prisoners will be liberated... By   you   the   land   will  be liberated
By    your    fists by your fury... your homes and honor will be guarded
You are the builders of a civilization... You are the renaissance of our nation
You are   as   immortal   as  the... immortality of the cedars on the peaks
You are the glory of our people... You are, you are the leaders
The crown on our heads you are... You, You are the masters
My beloved... I kiss the nobleness of your feet... They honor the honor
They were planted deep in the sacredness of our land...
They will never stumble or tremble
By you we will change the world... and destiny will bow to you
By you we will build our honorable future...
With you we will advance and be victorious... 


 Julia Botrous is a dedicated artist, she stands fast by the resistance.
She had always been devoted to her people's cause, and she always criticized Arab rulers for their stances, which are not patriotic, on the contrary they are puppets to the colonialist powers, they were critical to Hezbollah's and the Palestinian resistance dedication and fight to liberate their occupied land and People.
They called the capturing of Zionist soldiers as an irresponsible act.
All the proceeds of the song will be for the martyr's families.
"My beloved" is Julia Botrous's song
based on Sayed Hassan Nasrallah's speech.
The following are the introductory words of the song

Nazik Al-Malaikah… Before Yesterday

Nazik Al-Malaikah… Before Yesterday
By; Abbas Baydoun

Translated By: Adib S. Kawar

The passing away of Nazik Al-Malaikah from her absence that started a long time ago, seclusion, sickness and old age kept her away from poetry and life itself. It was painful that there was nothing left over of her except the news of her passing away, that no body asked about her except for this matter, even the Arab poetry conference, which was held and ended in Cairo without even mentioning her name. It could be our chronic undutifulness, it could be the undutifulness of life and time, and the news of her death could put a final point for this long time absence.

It should call us to rescue her out of forced oblivion. We shall not say that she had finished something that was gone long ago, nor that an era that was lost with her absence from the world of poetry, it is clear that this brilliant and exceptional woman is not in her presence in a history that has no clear place. It is sorrowful that nothing remained of Nazik Al-Malaikah except contention about pioneership that was confirmed, other then conflict about trial and modernity, which became part of the archives and besides late objection on renovation that she thought, had got out of control and jumped out side the fence.

It is regretful that there is nothing left of Nazik Al-Malaikah except signs of unrecorded history, even we don’t find other than that is buried and secluded, and certificates of people’s readings and reviews. The anachronism of modernity is that it is no more in the opinion of its founders and those who called for it, thus it remained without a library, without a memory and no heritage, and what is now affecting Nazik Al-Malaikah today is a curse that targeted all. As-Sayyab, Hawi, Abed Al-Sabour and Kabbani, and we never knew that they obtained more than eulogy. The slacken of time did not permit their rereading or interpretation.  

Let us return with Nazik Al-Malaikah to Iraq of the fifties, to a parturition that gave birth to outstanding works in history in the arts of music, poetry, and the fine art of painting and sculpture, and it is possible that much pioneering was done there, not actually, it is universally agreed that all of that did not come out extemporarily, on the contrary it was built on bases that are almost a reality. And it is connected and analogous that forms between its boundaries a world. The musical, painting and sculptural works could be driven by a common enthusiasm, which is a sort of reproducing actuality, from composing a second story for Iraqi life, and a second vision to redraw the past in the present and history in the popular seen. The history of Jawad Ali, the ornamentations of Jawad Salim, the music of the two Bashir brothers and the poetry of As-Sayyab and Al-Malaikah are nothing but analogous and similarities for this enthusiasm.

It is not strange that Iraqi enthusiasm sprang from the womb of a suffering that gave birth to many poetesses and to bring to the arena Nazik Al-Malaikah, Lami’a Amarah, Atika Al-Khuzarji who are without exaggeration actual poetic rimes. It was not strange that a poetess as Al-Malaikah could compete with a poet in pioneering, thus in this case she is the starter (pioneer) and the succeeded. Pioneering is not in the first place important if it doesn’t come as a mutation that is superseded by a respected and rich culture, and a special and unique poetic characteristic, which qualified the poetess to make this jump. We don’t find a borderline between her column poetry (traditional Arabic poetry that every line of it is divided into a first hemistich “Alsader” and the second hemistich “Alajez”) and its riming, because the matter here in this classification. The column poetry of Nazik bears all the renovation in its momentum that is found in her scanned verse.  

She is here and there putting a break to the fervor of Arab poetry, and its belligerent warlike richness, and its oratory and approach to the masses, confusion with other purposes such as teaching, instigation, historical recording and its merger with the occasion, the poetess, which said about the moon in her column poetry is “a soft and rich glass of milk”, did not need to say much more in her prosody verse. This doesn’t mean if the moon is a glass of milk, it opened in our imagination a basis, this doesn’t mean that Al-Malaikah did not achieve any thing in her prosody poetry (with foot of verse measure), but we don’t build a wall between a poet’s early, middle and late poetry, as it doesn’t mean that it cannot give prosody a special essentialism.
There is something in her prosody poetry that is not distinct in her poem “THE CHOLERA” as much as it is distinct in her poem (THE PRAYER OF THE GHOSTS), for example the ability of the poetess to limit her poem to a linguistic, sensational and spectacular pit without an inclination to ramification and dispersing that usually exhaust the modern poem. In her prosody there is an inclination for a clear singing, seriated, frank, argumentative, mature, sensational, courageous, identical, and an almost analogous demeanor, sentimental intensity that is not trapped by superficial emotions and “chewed” words. What ever is the situation, in spite of the paradox, we are facing a poetess. It would be unfair to Al-Malaikah to limit her to one historical milestone, as in spite of that she succumbed to that, but she was exactly less suitable for this contention. She is further ahead as a poetess and there is in her poetry a real exposure for a mature quiddity, for a rich and able woman, thus with this poetess and with this quiddity and the woman, Nazik Al-Malaikah should be an outstanding figure in history.

But the years of solicitude and absence and possibly unconsciousness are not enough to hide a woman with this brightness, intelligence, confrontationist character, protestation, pioneering (meaning to be the followed and not a follower). Probably the final death of Nazik Al-Malaikah makes us understand that what she achieved was an exceptional special personality and a woman. 
“Assafir” June 22nd. 2007 


Identity Card: The great Iraqi Arab Poetess Nazik Al-Malaikah (Angels)
The Arab Iraqi poetess, Nazik Al-Malaikah was born in Baghdad on 23 August 1923
She was brought up in a family culture and literature,
Her mother is he poetess, Salma ABDUL Razzah (Umm Nizar)
Her father, man of letters and a researcher, Sadek Al-Malaikah,
She spent her youth at home with her family in an atmosphere of culture literature…
She left Iraq in the late fifties, after a series of coup d’etats at the time.
Nazik Al-Malaikah wrote a number of famous poems, important critiques, stories and auto biography.
The High Council of Culture published lately her full works in Cairo.

After finishing he secondary schooling, she joined the High Teachers Collage,
from which she graduated in 1944 with distinction.
In 1950 she left to the United States where she studied the English language and literature,
in addition to Arabic literature to get her Master’s degree in the latter field.

Returned to Iraq where she became an assistant professor in the college of education.
She masters the English, French, German, Latin in addition to the Arabic languages.
She got he bachelor’s degree in the Arabic language from the High Teachers Collage in Baghdad,
and her master’s degree from Wisconsin University majoring in comparative literature.
She represented Iraq in the Arab Conference of Writers in 1965.
She published seven collections of poems (Diwan in Arabic)
Her last diwan, The Sea Changes its Colors, was printed several times.
Her full works were published in two volumes and were reprinted several times

She also wrote the following books:
The Affairs of Modern Poetry
Separatism in the Arab Society
The Red Hermitage and Balcony
The Psychology of Poetry
Several research works and thesis’s for many Arab and foreign
universities were wrote about her.

She published her first diwan “The Lover of the Night in 1947, The Arab critique Maroun Abboud said: “Deep grieve was the common factor between all its poems, where ever we sail among its poems you see a funeral, and you don’t hear except crying and sometimes wailing and agony”.
She published her second diwan “Shrapnel’s and Ashes” in 1947.
According to her, “A big wave of uproar took place about it”.


A poem by: Ahmad Fuad Najem
Translated BY: Adib S. Kawar
Forbidden to travel
Forbidden to sing
Forbidden to speak
Forbidden from longing
Forbidden from resentment
Forbidden from smiling
And every day of your love prohibitions increase

And every day I love you
more then the previous one
My love the craving and jailed ship
An informer at every knot
Soldiers at each port
Forbids me to zeal for you
or fly to you
And to take refuge in your lap
or at your welcoming bosom
As a suckling baby suffering from weaning
And return to your compassionate heart
My love the adorned city
Sad... grief in every neighborhood
In every palace decoration
Forbidden to wake up adoring you
Or go to bed and parley
Forbidden from  shutting up
And every day of your love prohibitions increase

قصيدة منشورَاتٌ فِدَائيّة على جُدْرَانِ" إسْرائيل"

قصيدة منشورَاتٌ فِدَائيّة على جُدْرَانِ" إسْرائيل"

نزار قباني


لَنْ تجعلوا من شعبِنا

شعبَ هُنودٍ حُمرْ

فنحنُ باقونَ هُنا ..

في هذه الأرض التي تلبس في مِعْصَمها

إسوارةً من زهرْ

فهذه بلادُنا

فيها وُجِدنَا منذ فجر العمرْ

فيها لعِبنْا.. وعشِقْنا.. وكتبنَا الشِعرْ

مُشَرِّشُونَ نحنُ في خُلجانها

مثلَ حشيش البحرْ

مُشَرِّشُونَ نحنُ في تاريخها

في خُبزها المرقُوقِ.. في زيتونِها

في قمحها المُصْفَرّْ

مُشَرِّشُونَ نحنُ في وجدانِها

باقونَ في آذارها

باقونَ في نيَسْاَنِها

باقونَ كالحَفْر على صُلبانِها

وفي الوصايا العشْرْ ...


لا تسكرُوا بالنصرْ

إذا قتلتُمْ خالداً

فسوف يأتي عَمْرو

وإن سحقتُمْ وردةً

فسوفَ يبقى العطرْ


لأنَّ موسى قُطعتْ يداهْ

ولم يعُدْ يُتقنُ فنَّ السِحرْ

لأنَّ موسى كُسِرتْ عصاهْ

ولم يعُدْ بوسعه..

شَقَّ مياه البحرْ..

لأنَّكم .. لستُمْ كأمْريكا

ولسنا كالهنود الحُمرْ

فسوفَ تهلكونَ عن آخركم..

فوقَ صحاري مِصرْ..


المسجدُ الأقصى . شهيدٌ جديدْ

نُضيفهُ إلى الحساب العتيقْ

وليستِ النارُ ، وليسَ الحريقْ

سوى قناديلَ تُضيُْ الطريقْ ..


من قَصَبِ الغاباتْ..

نخرجُ كالجنِّ لكمْ ..

من قَصَبِ الغاباتْ

من رُزَم البريد.. من مقاعد الباصاتْ

من عُلَب الدخانِ ..

من صفائح البنزينِ..

من شواهد الأمواتْ

من الطباشيرِ .. من الألواحِ ..

من ضفائر البناتْ ..

من خَشَب الصُلْبان..

من أوعية البخُورِ ..

من أغطية الصلاةْ

من وَرَق المصحفِ ، نأتيكُمْ ..

من السُطُور والآياتْ

لن تُفْلتوا من يدنا ..

فنحنُ مبثوثونَ في الريحِ ..

وفي الماءِ ..

وفي النباتْ ..

ونحنُ معجونونَ ..

بالألوانِ والأصواتْ ..

لن تُفْلتوا ..

لن تُفْلتوا ..

فكلُّ بيتٍ فيه بندقيةٌ

من ضفَّةِ النيل إلى الفُراتْ


لنْ تستريحوا مَعَنا ..

كلُّ قتيلٍ عندنا ..

يموتُ آلافاً من المرَّاتْ ...


إنتبهوا ‍! ..

إنتبهوا ‍! ..

أعمدةُ النور لها أظافر

وللشبابيكِ عيونٌ عشرْ

والموتُ في انتظاركمْ

في كلِّ وجهٍ عابرٍ ..

أو لَفْتةٍ .. أو خصْرْ

الموتُ مخبوءٌ لكمْ

في مِشْط كلِّ امرأةٍ

وخُصْلةٍ من شَعرْ ...


يا آلَ إسرائيلَ .. لا يأخذْكُمُ الغرورْ

عقاربُ الساعات إنْ توقّفتْ

لا بُدَّ أن تدورْ

إنَّ اغتصابَ الأرض لا يخيفُنا

فالريشُ قد يسقُطُ عن أجنحة النسورْ

والعَطَشُ الطويلُ لا يخيفُنا

فالماءُ يبقى دائماً في باطن الصخورْ

هزمتُمُ الجيوشَ .. إلاّ أنَّكمْ

لم تهزموا الشعورْ ..

قطعتُمُ الأشجارَ من رؤوسها

وظلَّتِ الجذورْ ...


ننصحُكمْ أن تقرأوا ..

ما جاءَ في الزَبُورْ

ننصحُكمْ أن تحملوا توراتَكُمْ

وتتبعوا نبيَّكُمْ للطورْ

فما لكُمْ خبزٌ هُنا ..

ولا لكُمْ حضورْ ..

من باب كلِّ جامعٍ

من خلف كُلِّ منبرٍ مكسورْ

سيخرجُ الحَجَّاجُ ذاتَ ليلةٍ

ويخرجُ المنصورْ ...

إنتظرونا دائماً ..

في كُلِّ ما لا يُنْتَظَرْ

فنحنُ في كلِّ المطاراتِ ..

وفي كلِّ بطاقاتِ السَفَرْ

نطلع في روما ..

وفي زوريخَ ...

من تحت الحجَرْ

نطلعُ من خلف التماثيلِ ..

وأحواضِ الزَهَرْ

رجالُنا يأتونَ دونَ موعدٍ

في غَضَبِ الرعدِ .. وزخَّاتِ المطَرْ

يأتونَ في عباءة الرسُولِ ..

أو سيفِ عُمَرْ


يرسمنَ أحزانَ فلسطينَ.. على دمع الشجَرْ

يقبرنَ أطفالَ فلسطينَ.. بوجدان البشَرْ

نساؤنا ..

يحملنَ أحجارَ فلسطينَ ..

إلى أرض القَمَرْ ....


لقد سرقتُمْ وطناً ..

فصفَّقَ العالمُ للمُغامَرَهْ..

صادرتمُ الألوفَ من بيوتنا

وبعتُمُ الألوفَ من أطفالنا

فصفَّق العالمُ للسماسرَهْ

سرقتُم الزيتَ من الكنائسِ..

سرقتُمُ المسيح من منزله في الناصرَهْ

فصفّق العالمُ للمغامَرَهْ ..

وتنصبُونَ مأتماً

إذا خَطَفنا طائرَهْ ...


تذكَّروا ..

تذكَّروا دائماً

بأنَّ أَمْريكا –على شأنِها-

ليستْ هي اللهَ العزيزَ القديرْ

وأنَّ أَمْريكا –على بأسها-

لن تمنعَ الطيورَ من أن تطيرْ

قد تقتُلُ الكبيرَ .. بارودةٌ

صغيرةٌ .. في يد طفلٍ صغيرْ ..


ما بيننا .. وبينكُمْ

لا ينتهي بعامْ ..

لا ينتهي بخمسةٍ .. أو عشْرةٍ

ولا بألفِ عامْ ..

طويلةٌ معاركُ التحرير.. كالصيامْ

ونحنُ باقونَ على صدروكمْ

كالنَقْش في الرخامْ ...

باقونَ في صوت المزاريبِ ..

وفي أجنحة الحَمامْ

باقونَ في ذاكرة الشمسِ ..

وفي دفاتر الأيَّامْ

باقون في شَيْطنة الأولاد.. في خَرْبشة الأقلامْ

باقونَ في الخرائط الملوَّنَهْ ..

باقونَ في شِعْر امريء القيس ..

وفي شِعْر ابي تمَّامْ ..

باقونَ في شفاه من نحبّهمْ

باقونَ في مخارجِ الكلامْ ..


مَوْعدُنا حين يجيء المغيبْ ..

مَوْعدُنا القادمُ في تل أبيبْ

"نَصْرٌ من اللهِ .. وَفَتْحٌ قريبْ".


ليس حُزَيرانُ سوى ..

يومٍ من الزمانْ

وأجملُ الوُرودِ ما

ينبتُ في حديقة الأحزانْ ....


للحزن أولادٌ سيكبُرُونْ

للوجَع الطويل أولادٌ سيكبُرُونْ

لمنْ قتلتمْ في حزيرانَ ..

صغارٌ سوفَ يَكبُرُونْ

للأرضِ ..

للحاراتِ ..

للأبواب.. أولادٌ سيكبُرُونْ

وهؤلاء كلُّهُمْ ..

تجمّعوا منذ ثلاثين سَنَهْ

في غُرف التحقيق ..

في مراكز البوليس.. في السجونْ

تجمّعوا كالدمع في العيونْ

وهؤلاء كلُّهمْ ..

في أيِّ . أيِّ لحظةٍ

من كلِّ أبواب فلسطينَ .. سيدخلونْ


وجاءَ في كتابه تعالى :

بأنَّكمْ من مِصْرَ تخرجونْ

وأنَّكمْ في تيهها ..

سوفَ تجوعونَ وتعطشونْ

وأنَّكمْ ستعبدونَ العِجْلَ.. دون ربِّكمْ

وأنَّكمْ بنعمة الله عليكمْ

سوف تكفرونْ ..

وفي المناشير التي يحملها رجالُنا

زدنَا على ما قاله تعالى

سطريْنِ آخرَيْنْ :

"ومن ذُرى الجولان تخرجونْ .."

"وضَفَّة الأردُنِّ تخرجونْ .."

"بقوّة السلاح تخرجونْ .."


سوفَ يموتُ الأعورُ الدجَّالْ ..

سوفَ يموتُ الأعورُ الدجَّالْ

ونحنُ باقونَ هنا ..

حدائقاً ..

وعطرَ برتقالْ ..

باقونَ فيما رسمَ اللهُ ..

على دفاتر الجبالْ

باقونَ في معاصر الزيتِ

وفي الأنوالْ ..

في المدِّ .. في الجَزْر ..

وفي الشروق والزوالْ

باقونَ في مراكب الصيْدِ

وفي الأصدافِ .. والرمالْ

باقونَ في قصائد الحبِّ ..

وفي قصائد النضالْ ..

باقونَ في الشعر .. وفي الأزجالْ

باقونَ في عطر المناديل ..

وفي (الدبْكة).. و (الموَّالْ)

في القَصَص الشعبيِّ .. في الأمثالْ ..

باقونَ في الكُوفيَّة البيضاءِ ..

والعقالْ ...

باقونَ في مُروءة الخيْل ..

وفي مُروءة الخيَّالْ ..

باقونَ في (المِْهباج) .. والبُنِّ

وفي تحيّة الرجال للرجالْ

باقونَ في معاطف الجنودِ ..

في الجراحِ .. في السُعالْ

باقونَ في سنابل القمح ..

وفي نسائم الشمالْ

باقونَ في الصليبْ ..

باقونَ في الهلالْ ..

في ثورة الطُلاَّبِ.. باقونَ

وفي معاول العُمَّالْ

باقونَ في خواتم الخطْبةِ

في أسِرَّة الأطفالْ ..

باقونَ في الدموعْ ..

باقونَ في الآمالْ ..


تِسعونَ مليوناً ..

من الأعراب ، خلفَ الأفْقِ غاضبونْ

يا ويلَكُمْ من ثأرهمْ..

يومَ من القُمْقُمِ يطلعونْ ....


لأنّ هارونَ الرشيدَ .. ماتَ من زمانْ

ولم يَعُدْ في القصرِ ..

غلمانٌ .. ولا خِصْيانْ ..

لأنَّنا نحنُ قتلناهُ ..

وأطعمناهُ للحيتانْ ...

لأنَّ هارونَ الرشيدَ ..

لم يَعُدْ "إنسانْ"

لأنَّهُ في تخته الوثير

لا يعرفُ ما القدسُ ، وما بيسانْ

فقد قطعنا رأسَهُ ..

أمسِ ، وعلّقناه في بيسانْ

لأنَّ هارونَ الرشيدَ .. أرنبٌ جبانْ

فقد جعلنا قصرهُ

قيادةَ الأركانْ ....


ظلَّ الفلسطينيُّ أعواماً على الأبوابْ

يشحذ خبزَ العدل من موائد الذئابْ

ويشتكي عذابَهُ للخالق التوَّابْ..

وعندما ..

أخرجَ من إسطبله حصانَهُ

وزيَّتَ البارودةَ الملقاةَ في السردابْ ..

أصبحَ في مقدوره

أن يبدأ الحسابْ ...


نحنُ الذينَ نرسُمُ الخريطَهْ ...

ونرسمُ السفوحَ والهضابْ

نحنُ الذين نبدأ المحاكمَهْ

ونفرضُ الثوابَ والعقابْ ..


العرَبُ الين كانوا عندكمْ

مصدِّري أحلامْ ..

تحوّلوا – بعد حزيرانَ – إلى

حقلٍ من الألغامْ

وانتقلتْ (هانوي) من مكانها

وانتقلتْ فيتنامْ ...


حدائقُ التاريخ.. دوماً تُزْهِرُ

ففي رُبى السودان قد ماجَ الشقيقُ الأحمَرُ

وفي صحاري ليبيا

أورقَ غصنٌ أخضَرُ

والعَرَبُ الذي قلتمْ عنهُمُ تحجَّروا

تغيّروا ..

تغيّروا ..


أنا الفلسطينيُّ ..

بعد رحلة الضيَاعِ والسرابْ

أطلعُ كالعشْب من الخرابْ

أضيء كالبرق على وجوهكمْ

أهطلُ كالسحابْ

أطلع كلَّ ليلةٍ

من فسْحة الدار.. ومن مقابض الأبوابْ

من ورق التوت.. ومن شجيرة اللبلابْ

من بِرْكة الماء.. ومن ثرثرة المزرابْ ..

أطلعُ من صوت أبي..

من وجه أمي الطيّب الجذَّابْ

أطلع من كلِّ العيون السود.. والأهدابْ

ومن شبابيك الحبيبات، ومن رسائل الأحبابْ

أطلعُ من رائحة الترابْ..

أفتحُ بابَ منزلي..

أدخله. من غير أن أنتظرَ الجوابْ

لأنَّني السؤالُ والجوابْ...


مُحاصَرونَ أنتُمُ .. بالحقد والكراهيهْ

فمِنْ هُنا.. جيشُ أبي عبيدةٍ

ومن هنا معاويَهْ ..

سلامُكُمْ ممزَّقٌ

وبيتكُمْ مطوَّقٌ

كبيت أيِّ زانيَهْ ..


نأتي بكُوفيَّاتنا البيضاء والسوداءْ

نرسُمُ فوق جلدكمْ ..

إشارةَ الفِداءْ

من رَحِم الأيَّام نأتي.. كانبثاق الماءْ

من خيمة الذلّ الذي يعلكها الهواءْ

من وَجَع الحسين نأتي

من أسى فاطمةَ الزهراءْ ..

من أُحُدٍ .. نأتي ومن بَدْرٍ

ومن أحزان كربلاءْ ..

نأتي .. لكي نصحِّحَ التاريخَ والأشياءْ

ونطمسَ الحروفَ ..

في الشوارع العبرِيَّة الأسماءْ


Fedayee Circulars on the Walls of “Israel”

Fedayee  Circulars on the Walls of “Israel”
By: Nizar Qabani

Translated By: Adib S. Kawar


You shall not make of our people
A people of Red Indians
Because we are remaining here...
In this land that wears on its wrist
a bracelet of roses
This is our land
We lived in it from the dawn of time
And on it we played... We loved... And wrote poetry...
Sprinkled we are around it gulfs
Like sea weeds
Sprinkled we are in its history
In its “Taboun” bread... in its olives
In its yellowish wheat
Sprinkled we are in its sentiments
Remaining in its Marches
Remaining in its Aprils
Remaining like engraving in the wood of crosses
And in the Ten Commandments


Don’t get drunk with victory
If you kill Khaled
Amr shall come
If you crush a rose
The fragrance shall prevail


Because Moses’ hands were amputated
And he no more masters the art of magic
Because Moses’ stick was broken
And he shall no more be able
To split the waters of the sea…
Because… America you are not
And we are not Red Indians
Exterminated you shall all be…
Over the deserts of Egypt…


Al-Aqsa Mosque… A new martyr
To the old account we added it…
Fire and Flames
Are nothing but lanterns illuminating the road…


From the canes of forests
Like Jinn we shall come out for you
From parcel posts… From buss seats…
From cigarette boxes…
From benzene cans
From tomb stones…
From chalk… From blackboards
From girls’ braids…
From crosses' wood
From frankincense thuribles
From prayer shawls
From Koran paper, we shall come to you…
From lines from verses
You shall not escape
Mixed With the wind we are…
In water…in plants
Kneaded we are
In colors… In sounds
Escape you shall not…
Escape you shall not…
In every home there is a rifle…
From the bank of the Nile to the bank of the Euphrates


You shall not rest with us…
Every martyr of ours
Falls thousands of times…


Beware…! Lamp posts has nails
Death is waiting for you
Tens of eyes windows have…
In every passing face…
Or glance… Or waist
Death is hidden for you…
In every woman’s comb…
And in every hair wisp…


You “Israel” ilk… let not conceitedness drive you
Clock arms if they stop
They certainly shall turn again
Rapping the land shall frighten us not
Feathers fell off eagles wings
Long thirst doesn’t frighten us
Water shall remain in the hearts of rocks
You defeated the armies… But you shall not
Shall not defeat sentiments…
The heads of trees you cut
But roots prevailed…


We advise you to read
What was written in the psalms
We advise you to carry your Torah
And follow your prophet to the mountain
Bread you have not here…
Nor presence…
From every mosque’s door
From behind every broken pulpit
One night, Al-Hajjaj Bin yusuf shall emerge
And Al-Mansour shall emerge…
Always be waiting for us…
From where you don’t expect us…
In every airport we are…
In every traveling ticket…
From Rome we shall come out
In Zurich…
From under every rock…
From behind statues we shall come…
And flower pots…
Our men shall arrive without a rendezvous
Under the anger of thunder… and rain showers…
Wearing the messenger’s cloak
Or Omar’s sword
Our women…
Palestine’s sorrows they paint… on the tears of trees
Palestine’s kids they shall burry… in people’s sentiments
Our women carry Palestine’s stones…
To the surface of the moon….


You stole a homeland…
The world clapped for the hazard…
Thousands of our homes you confiscated…
Thousands of our children you sold…
The world clapped for the agents…
Oil you stolen from churches…
Christ you stole from his home in Nazareth…
The world clapped for the adventure…


Always remember
That how mighty America is…
It is not God the great the dear…
And that America how powerful it is…
Shall not stop the birds to fly…
The big could be killed…
By a small rifle in little kid’s hand…


Our rendezvous shall come with sunset…
Our next rendezvous is in Tel Aviv…
Victory from God… and an imminent conquest…


June is not but a day in time…
And the most beautiful roses are that
Grow in the gardens of sorrow…


Sorrow has young ones that shall grow…
Long pain has young ones that shall grow…
For these you killed in June…
young ones that shall grow…
For the land…
For neighborhoods…
0f our doors… young ones that shall grow…
All of them gathered together for thirty years…
In interrogation rooms…
In police stations… In prisons…
Gathered like tears in eyes…
And them all…
In any… Any moment… through all Palestine’s doors…
They shall enter…


In his book  God wrote:
That from Egypt you shall come out…
And in its wilderness you shall…
You shall suffer hunger and thirst…
And instead of God the calf you shall worship…
And in God’s beneficence
you shall ungrateful be…
And in the circulars distributed by our men…
We added to what the all mighty said
Two lines…
From the peaks of the Golan you shall be forced out..
And out of the Jordan’s banks
And here we are remaining …
By the force of arms you shall be forced out…


The one eyed charlatan shall die
And remaining here we are…
And orange aroma…
Remaining while God drew…
On the copybooks of the mountains…
Remaining in our oil presses…
And the weaving machines…
In the high and in the low tides…
In sunrise and sunset…
Remaining in fishing boats…
In sea shells…in sands…
Remaining in love songs
And in resistance poems…
Remaining in poetry… in anthems…
Remaining in the (Dabkeh) and (almawal)…
In folk tales… in proverbs…
Remaining in the white and red kafiehs…
In the head bands…
Remaining in chivalry of the horseman…
The salutes of men to men…
Remaining in soldier’s coats…
In fighters wounds
In wheat spikes
In the breathes of the north…
Remaining in the cross…
In the crescent…
In student’s revolutions … remaining we are…
In workers pickaxes…
In engagement rings… we remain…
In baby’s cots…
In tears…
In hopes we remain…


Hundreds of millions…
Angry Arabs are behind the horizon…
Beware their retaliation…
The day out of the (Qomqom) they jump out…


Palestinians remained for long years knocking doors…
Begging for the bread of justice from the tables of wolves…
To God he complained for his pains…
And when…
His Horse he saddled…
When he retrieved and oiled his rifle…
Then he will be…
Able to settle the old account…


We are who draw the maps…
Draw hillsides and plateaus…
We are who shall start the trial…
Grant reward… and impose punishment…


Arabs who were with you…
Exporters of dreams…
After June… They changed… to…
Mine fields…
And “Hanoi” from its place moved…
And Vietnam too…


History’s gardens… always bloom…
Our people woke up…
Green leaves sprang from dry branches…
Those about whom you said… got fossilized…
They changed…


I, the Palestinian…
After the long journey of forfeiture…
Grow like grass I shall from dissolution…
Like lighting I illuminate your faces…
Pour down like clouds…
Come out every night…
From my old home… from door knobs…
From strawberry leaves… and from ivy shrubs…
From the water fountain…
The chatter of the spout…
I from my father’s voice…
From my mother’s kind and attractive face…
From black eyes… and eyelashes I rise…
From the windows of my beloved…
and the letters of my lovers…
From the smell of the soil of my land…
I open the door of my house…
Enter it without hearing the answer…
Because I am the question and the answer…


Under  the siege… of hate and grudge…
From here… Abu Obaida’s army…
And Moawieh from there…
Your peace is torn out…
Your homes circled they are…
Like the home of any whore…


Wearing our black and white kaffiehs…
Paint on your skins the sign of redemption…
From the time’s womb we shall come…
like a strong fountain…
From the tent of ignominy chewed by the wind…
From the pains of Al-Hussein…
From Fatima’s sorrows…
From the battle of Uhud… From Bader we come…
We come to amend history and things…
To obliterate the letters…
From…  From the streets with Hebrew... names…
Find attached:
Adib S. Kawar with his painting:
“A fidaee looking at his land”