A new song for Gaza

Archive for the 'Adib S. Kawar' Category

A new song for Gaza

By the Falk poet: Ahmad Fouad Hassan

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

May God help you O Ghazawis
The pain of the Arab nation you are…
Neither Abbas nor Hamas you are…
Palestine is the cause…
May God help you O Ghazawis

The God damned ruled us…
And the other betrayed and sold us…
To the broker and Zionism…
May God help you O Ghazawis…

You alone were left…
May God victory grant you and lead you…
And your enemy’s state He may demolish for you…
Days are passing and others coming…
May God help you O Ghazawis

In the name of God you shall divert not from our goal…
O you traitor and defaced…
Babies of hunger died…
and the thirsty water can’t find…
May God help you O Ghazawis

O God for the most beautiful of words…
People wake up and states sleep…
Meaning your verso becomes the front…
O you Arab a car you rode…
May God help you O Ghazawis…
———

The Falk Poet Revolutionary
Ahmad Fouad Najem

The revolutionary hero… Inspirer of the masses… The beloved poet…
May God keep, and give him a long life…

The great French poet, Lois Aragone, said:
“He has the strength that pulls down city walls…”

Poet Ali Ara3i called him:
“The man the gun…”

Anwar As-Sadat called him:
“The obscene poet” (Coming from As-Sadat would be a complement) Called: “The last of the respected paupers, the poet of muddling of public security”

Genocide Don't Call it - مجزرة لا تسميها

Genocide Don't Call it

By: Remi Kanazi

Genocide Don't Call it
we don't want to offend anyone
if we offend them
they'll never listen to us
we have to be reasonable

1,400 is just a number
no names
no death
we want peace and negotiations
don’t mention Zionism
if you mention Zionism
they’ll call you anti-Semitic
and people will believe them



don't cite Palestinian sources

no one would believe you

I wouldn't believe you

trust Israeli sources


don’t ever be angry
if you’re angry
they’ll call you angry
if they’re angry
everyone will call them
understandably emotional

we have to be pragmatic
pragmatism is not a euphemism
for  concessions
although it may feel that way

don’t mention Allah or martyrs

it reminds them of Al Qaeda and 9/11

it’s not your job to fix their ignorance

don’t talk about refugees
boycott
or a one-state solution
if we want to win
we have to compromise
the road to peace is just ahead

don’t make analogies that include
Nazis, the Holocaust, or the Warsaw Ghetto
only Israelis are allowed to do this
when discussing wars on
Palestine, Lebanon, Syria, and Iran

don’t mention Yaffa, Haifa, Safad
or where your family is from
but if you do
nod when random people say they love Israel
it doesn’t matter where you came from
you can’t actually go back


don’t
just don’t
and that will lead to doing.

Remi Kanazi is a Palestinian-American poet, writer, and activist based in New York City. He is the editor of Poets For Palestine (Al Jisser Group, 2008) and the author of the collection of poetry and CD, Poetic Injustice: Writings on Resistance and Palestine. His political commentary has been featured by news outlets throughout the world, including Al Jazeera English, GRITtv with Laura Flanders, and BBC Radio. His poetry has taken him across North America, the UK, and the Middle East, and he recently appeared in the Palestine Festival of Literature as well as Poetry International. He is a recurring writer in residence and advisory board member for the Palestine Writing Workshop
 مجزرة لا تسميها

شعر رامي قنازع

ترجمة: أديب قعوار

مجزرة لا تسميها

أحداً لا نريد أن نكدر

إذا كدرناهم

لنا أبداً لن يستمعوا

مجرد رقم هم  ال1400 إنسان

لا أسماء

ولا موت

فقط سلام ومفاوضات ما نريد

الصهيونية لا تذكروا

إذا الصهيونية ذكرتم

لاساميين سيعتبرونكم

والناس هم سيصدقون

مراجع فلسطينية لا تقتطفوا

فلا أحد سيصدقكم

وحتى أنا لن أصدقكم

بمراجع صهيونية ثقوا

أبداً لا تغضبوا

فإذا ما غضبتم

غاضبين سيعتبرونكم

أما هم إذا ما غضبوا

فسيعتبرهم الجميع

وبتفهم مجرد منفعلين

الظروف يجب أن نراعي

مراعاة الظروف العامة ليس للكلام تلطيفاً

التنازلات

مع أنها قد تبدو كذلك

الله ولا الشهداء أبداً لا تذكروا

فبالقاعدة و 9/11 تذكرونهم

فليس من شأنكم جهلهم أن تصوبوا

عن اللاجئين أبداً لا تتكلموا

المقاطعة

أو حل الدولة الواحدة

إذا لم نفز

علينا أن نساوم

درب السلام أمامنا

لا تحللوا ولا تناظروا ولا تذكروا

النازية، الهولوكوست

أو غيتو وارسو

فقط "الإسرائيليين" لهم الحق بذلك

عندما تبحث الحروب على:

فلسطين، لبنان، سوريا وإيران...

لا تذكروا لا يافا، حيفا، صفد ولا الناصرة

أو أي مكان عائلتك أتت منه

ولكن إذا فعلت

برأسك طأطأ إذا ما أحدهم قال أنه "إسرائيل" يحب

من أين أتيت غير مهم

فالعودة فعلياً غير واردة

لا تفعل

كلا لا تفعل
فهذا يؤدي لأن تفعل

رامي قنازع شاعر، كاتب وناشط فلسطيني أمريكي، يقيم في مدينة نيويورك. رئيس تحرير "شعراء لأجل فلسطين" (مجموعة الجسر، 2008) وله ديوان شعري و CD، "حيف شعري": "كتابات عن المقاومة وفلسطين"، نشرت كتاباته السياسية في وسائل إعلام إخبارية حول العالم ومنها: فضائية الجزيرة الإنجليزية، تلفزيون GRITtv مع لورا فلاندرز، هيئة الإذاعة البريطانية BBC Radio، وقد أوصلته شاعريته إلى أوساط غبر الولايلت المتحدة الأمريكية، المملكة المتحدة، الشرق الأوسط وأخيراً ظهر في "الاحتفال الأدبي الفلسطيني" كما "الشعر العالمي". وهو كاتب متكرر في residence and advisory وعضو مجلس أدارة ل"المشغل الكتابي الفلسطيني".

Remi Kanazi: The Dos and Don'ts of Palestine

Remi Kanazi: The Dos and Don'ts of Palestine – A Poem
Translated into Arabic by:Adib S. Kawar

Remi Kanazi: The Dos and Don'ts of Palestine – A Poem

Gilad Atzmon

http://www.gilad.co.uk/writings/remi-kanazi-the-dos-and-donts-of-palestine-a-poem.html

don't call it genocide
we don't want to offend anyone
if we offend them
they'll never listen to us
we have to be reasonable

1,400 is just a number
no names
no death
we want peace and negotiations
don’t mention Zionism
if you mention Zionism
they’ll call you anti-Semitic
and people will believe them

don’t ever be angry
if you’re angry
they’ll call you angry
if they’re angry
everyone will call them
understandably emotional

we have to be pragmatic
pragmatism is not a euphemism
 concessions
although it may feel that way

don’t mention Allah or martyrs

it reminds them of Al Qaeda and 9/11

it’s not your job to fix their ignorance

don’t talk about refugees
boycott
or a one-state solution
if we want to win
we have to compromise
the road to peace is just ahead

don’t make analogies that include
the Holocaust, Nazis, or the Warsaw Ghetto
only Israelis are allowed to do this
when discussing wars on
Palestine, Lebanon, Syria, and Iran

don’t mention Yaffa, Haifa, Safad
or where your family is from
but if you do
nod when random people say they love Israel
it doesn’t matter where you came from
you can’t go back

don’t
just don’t
and that will lead to doing.

ما يصنع وما لا يصنع لفلسطين

شعر: رامي قنازع

ترجمة: أديب قعوار

مجزره لا تدعوها

أحداً لا نريد أن نكدر

إذا كدرناهم

منا لن يسمعوا


مجرد رقم هم  ال1400 انسان

لا أسماء

ولا موت

فقط سلام ومفاوضات ما نريد

الصهيونية لا تذكروا

إذا الصهيونية ذكرتم

لا ساميين سيعتبرونكم

والناس سيصدقونهم

أبداً لا تغضبوا

فإذا ما غضبتم

غاضبين سيعتبرونكم

أما هم إذا ما غضبوا

فسيعتبرهم الجميع

وبتفهم فإنهم مجرد منفعلين



الظروف يجب أن نراعي

مراعاة الظروف العامة ليس تلطيفاً للكلام

التنازلات

مع أنها قد تبدو كذلك

 لا الله ولا الشهداء أبداً لا تذكروا

فبالقاعدة و 9/11 تذكرونهم

فليس من شأنكم أن تصوبوا جهلهم

عن اللاجئين أبداً لا تتكلموا

المقاطعة

أو حل الدولة الواحدة

إذا لم نفز

علينا أن نساوم

درب السلام أمامنا

لا تحللوا ولا تناظروا ولا تذكروا

الهولوكوست، النازيين أو غيتو وارسو

فقط الإسرائيليين لهم الحق بذلك

عندما تبحث الحروب على:

فلسطين، لبنان، سوريا وإيران...

لا تذكروا لا يافا، حيفا، صفد ولا الناصرة

أو أي مكان أتت منه عائلتك

ولكن إذا فعلت

برأسك طأطأ إذا ما أحدهم قال أنه إسرائيل يحب

من أين أتيت غير مهم

فالعودة غير واردة

لا تفعل

كلا لا تفعل

فهذا يؤدي لأن تفعل

The Slave Market

The Slave Market
 Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated from Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

This poem was written in the memory of Arab workers killed in Ouyoun Qarah (Rishon LeZion) on 20/5/1990

Our address is: In Gaza, Khan Younis – Al-Khalil (1)
In Al-Quds, in the Ghour (2) – in the sad home
My friend: my tears and yours are twins
Crying? The first tear is crying
the eyes it wounds - it blasts them
Two sides are burning in the center
And the other tear
Separation…
Sorrows they awaken - separate us
Two tears are shed
Why is it O you time of subduing
Without security you accept that we live
our dreams…

a long routed life divides us
and babies' food it plunders from us and the place
and in the slave market we live
as with strife we live
on roads, our days aged
in fields,
by silence’s dust they are watched
feeling lost
black are our dreams
as the bereaved dress - dusted is the veil
and the same are our young ones
In my homeland and in the “shatat” (3)

***

A life’s time is your curse
Dawn’s light was an ousted thing throwing me
Sad between tigers' mouths
In my way things were jostling
and in my head
And in pain they were revolting
And time was informing me that the cursed incident
to us is approaching
Bullets shall pierce our sides tomorrow
the sun is setting from afar
agony shall in my head roam
devastation in my opinion is the cursed street
The damned killer in gaiety is carousing
Death’s shadow I saw wallowing in the lane
Disparity - all the people
with bullets are targeted

Sorrow told me
Fear in the world - the bitterness
of separation it carries
your stubborn temple I noticed
looming as mirage among temples
our steps slacken
in you I sunk my pains
A step I heard killing the faraway silence
of my fear I shouted
and of my pains
imprisoned we shall be anew!!!!
How many a prisoner in spite of prison
became like a stubborn mountain

I live in a homeland that
Loves flowers and poems
the warbling unique tone
the judgment of fate I accepted
To patronize you one day I accepted
In security
And in your heart I felt
Traces of ignominy
So I opened a healed wound
Two tears fell
To the ill-omened street I returned
To beg the coward
Asking him – around him I picked
blood I feared to let
 Two tears ran
From my pains I cried
And from my sorrow
and I admonished the place

***

For peace I searched
For security
The place revolted
The place revolted with pain
And in sorrow and it said:
Who told you that the deserted street
security gives you???!

The deserted street
Like sorrow it is
Like a beast
Malice, lowliness, contempt
 The deserted street
is a massacre and a battle
people die in it
whenever ill fate played
stumps hate are disarrayed
among its masses
confused sight disdains it
its ideas are imbecilic
they stumble whenever they are on a road
Goodness disdains them
O you the annoyance of time
To search in the earth’s filthy we came to search
For work to ease our hunger
But victims of time we became
Remains in the place we became
For a shield we ask people
For eyes we ask tears
To dampen our sorrows
O you the annoyance of time
The world's tale we became
The known street
A massacre, the boy shouts
The rubble what shall we do with it??
Would hate sink in our brain’s folds
Our dreams in peace are deeds
We watered them, they grew among us
In the ill-fated street is our blood
Flowing in glory near us
Don’t shed tears O our eyes
Still searching I am for the people’s remains
Our young ones shall grow among us
And see peace’s birds
Near us from pain they sing
don’t despair you our souls
No, no, don’t despair
Even if the whole world rises against us
The baby shall live with this rubble
The baby shall remove the traces of wreckage
No, no it shall not be bought and sold
in the world’s slave market

(1) Al-Khalil - Hebron
(2) the Ghour - The Jordan river lowland
(3) Shatat – The Palestinian diaspora

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
      
Posts of the writer:
.          Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:
·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication.

Gray Poems

Gray Poems

A Tale
BY: Ahmad Hussein
Translated from Arabic By: Adib S. Kawar

Tonight I return
to graveyard’s memory
and in pain’s manuscripts
piled on shelves I read
about those with who I drank coffee
and peasants’ chestnuts we ate

*

in the Lemon’s tree of charge Coffee shop
over the soil under which our fathers sat
on memory’s neck a rosary I hang
with a bead for each of them
slowly… slowly growing long
the equation is this:
longer live
faster you die

*

When their time come
to on the wall their portraits to hang
and on stones their names to engrave
the graveyard can’t take any more of them
the proprietorship of shade we profaned
in the oak trees shade

*

in silence they occupied
their new coffee shop
one before the other they arrive

*

between the oak tree
and the lemon tree in the mosque’s plaza
ten minutes in the coffin’s speed
in between them now
a Falasha Moure school
two minutes away from the mosque
but the graveyard
for the dead half of it
now for taxis is the other half
near it is the Oak Cabaret
by a Slavic immigrant it is owned
now Nathan he is called
to customers Russian chestnuts he serves
with drinks

*

The cabaret I visited to Al-Fatehat* to recite
Nathan saw me and knew
with politeness to me he told:
the first Arab you are here to come!
Here I was born, I responded!!!
He smiled, and the Fatehat he left me to complete…!
when finished I got…
the policeman with reverence
that is proper for the place he told me,
with me please come:
“This place is for Jews only!!!
to him I responded
“There are no Jews here…
and no Jewish places here there are…
did this myth you believe?!
“What is there here”, he replied
To him I responded:
“If you don’t know,
What are you doing here?
He replied With steam bursting out of him:
“To the police station come with me…
I asked him:
Isn’t the police station… For Jews only… here?!

*

Later they told me
that he shot me
And he died!!!

Strangers

Strangers

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

Strangers…

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…

Strangers

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

Strangers

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

Strangers…

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

Strangers

(1948)

Forbidden

Forbidden

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

Fedayee Circulars on the Walls of “Israel”

Fedayee  Circulars on the Walls of “Israel”

By: Nizar Qabani

Translated By: Adib S. Kawar

-1-

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

-2-

Don’t get drunk with victory

If you kill Khaled

Amr shall come

If you crush a rose

The fragrance shall prevail

-3-

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…

-4-

Al-Aqsa Mosque… A new martyr

To the old account we added it…

Fire and Flames

Are nothing but lanterns illuminating the road…

-5-

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

-6-

You shall not rest with us…

Every martyr of ours

Falls thousands of times…

-7-

Beware…!

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…

-8-

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…

-9-

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….

-10-

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…

-11-

Remember…

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…

-12-

Our rendezvous shall come with sunset…

Our next rendezvous is in Tel Aviv…

Victory from God… and an imminent conquest…

-13-

June is not but a day in time…

And the most beautiful roses are that

Grow in the gardens of sorrow…

-14-

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…

-15-

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…

-16-

The one eyed charlatan shall die

And remaining here we are…

Gardens…

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…

-17-

Hundreds of millions…

Angry Arabs are behind the horizon…

Beware their retaliation…

The day out of the (Qomqom) they jump out…

-18-

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…

-19-

We are who draw the maps…

Draw hillsides and plateaus…

We are who shall start the trial…

Grant reward… and impose punishment…

-20-

Arabs who were with you…

Exporters of dreams…

After June… They changed… to…

Mine fields…

And “Hanoi” from its place moved…

And Vietnam too…

-21-

History’s gardens… always bloom…

Our people woke up…

Green leaves sprang from dry branches…

Those about whom you said… got fossilized…

They changed…

Changed…

-22-

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…

-23-

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…

-24-

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”

The Dress and Grapes

The Dress and Grapes

By: Dr. William Nassar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

In between the Nazarene women’s dresses and the Galilee vineyards there are threads of dawn and magic… thus it is impossible to find a Canaanite woman that denies the relation between her holy breasts and the grapes of Nazareth, as is the case with our brothers of Bethlehem who can never deny the relation between the womb and the wine of Cana and the august Nazarene of the Galilee.

Glorified is the creator… glorified is beauty…

Blessed is dew and bunch of grapes…

From the old Canaanite grandmother down to the lady of the Intifadah…

From the Sabra and Chatila massacre down to the peace puzzle…

And from the peace puzzle down to the massacres of Qana of the Galilee and the triple crucifixion of Christ…

And from Qana of the Galilee up to the siege and assassination of Gaza “for the protection of progressivism of the Palestinian cause”.

And from the assassination and the siege of Gaza up to granting the “Ramallah president” the green light for the liquidation of “The Right of Return” we are still fighting with gods about the dress and grapes…

Yes… since the first Canaanite god we are still quarrelling with the other nation’s gods about the dress and grapes…

And from the first sparkle and up to its death in grief about negotiations, conciliation, and recognition of the enemy state we are still quarrelling with ourselves about the dress and grapes…

O… global Canaanite god… when would your left or whatever is left of it, that in spite of the multiplicity of the dress the homeland is still one…

You…or whatever is left of the Palestinian left…

Would I be guilty if I declare that I am the last person left of the holy Canaanite progeny…

And if I was guilty… it would be better if you consider me guilty rather then that the homeland to considers me so… or that Um AL-Izz (mother of glory) would consider me so!!!

In exile O my dear enemy comrades, and so as I wouldn’t die of subjugation… I shall hold to things that I inherited from my maternal grandmother… hearing about a homeland that I love without knowing it…

I keep a big portrait of an old woman that live in the Khan Younis refugee camp, which I received by E-mail from her son that I was fraternized with…

A brother who my mother didn’t give birth to, Izz El-Dine, who brought me a handful of soil from the land of Canaan when we met… But the night watchers and guards of Camp David closed in his face the cross pass so as the handful of soil would not reach me…

Does any of you my enemy comrades reserve anything from our homeland?

In my undertaken exile, I carry the homeland all round the clock… my maternal grandfather’s home key… or a mawal ataba* song… the portrait of Assdoud Canaanite Um Al-Izz… And sometimes a rosary made of holy Canaanite olivewood…

What do you carry?

*****

In my voluntary exile O my enemy comrades… Sometimes I am cheerful and cry any time I see the picture of a Palestinian dress worn by a lofty old woman…

O my enemy comrades…

Do you know that the embroidery on dresses originated from warm hearts and the topographic reliefs of vineyard?

And the stitch on dresses borrows charm from dew drops on a grape before sunrise and before birds wakeup and fly?

This is my passion for Nazarene women’s dresses… what would you say if I talk about dresses of Assdoud, Haifa, Jaffa, Lid, Safad, Al-Quds and Akka that I hold on my head?

What do you think if I talk to you about my worship for the stitch in the Ghazawi dress?

Blessed is God…

A homeland given to those who doesn’t deserve… and the dress remains mine…

O my homeland…

How many times did you mount the back of the sun and the chords of my harp were broken?

How many times did you walk of the sheets of the winds and I didn’t find you?

O… you dress…

Do I love my homeland or the homeland kills me?

O… you dress…

Did you tell the homeland to be silent in my chest… My homeland now is postponed…

My homeland is asleep in its underwear… exactly like my old comrades…

And I am exactly like my former comrades… I need to sleep… But in my military fatigue and ready for action…

Thus my enemy comrades… leave me alone to sleep…

For maybe I wake up on a dress…

Or on a grape…

-----------------

Dr. William Nassar… composer and political singer living in exile…

Member of the high committee for Al-Quds an Arab Cultural capita 2009.

To the beloved in Gaza

To the beloved in Gaza

By: Music composer: William Nassar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

O you infuriated bodies… tanned with beneficence… waving with blood, strength and health… spanned by the storming wind… extending from our eyes to the foreheads thrust in the warmth of gun's muzzles…

Greetings our people in Gaza…

O you young fists… O you solid and affectionate faces… You dawn's scope like a version's passion…

 Greetings our people in Gaza…

The splendor of spilled blood, with it the land redeems its firstfruit… when rappers alternate in the darkness of obscenity and the hissing of revelry…

The joy of the rain glorifying our thirsty bodies on the shores of Gaza… granting us extension and delighting coolness… when the simoom blow from the cracked deserts and wilderness… asking people for what to dabble with lips…

Greetings to all my acquaintances in Gaza…

Our inebriety… the pleasantness of craving for a salutary bursting out ashes and age-old death…

Our history springing out of the wound's aperture…out of the fissures of babies split bellies in Gaza, in Jenin up in Qana of the Galilee… rosy greetings scented with martyr's sacredness…

Greetings our beloved in Gaza…

O the explosion of men in the age of the emasculated, hirelings and fornicators…

Our comrades, our glory, our men, and the break of morning in the dark evening…

The awakening of our babies after a pleasant sleep… the dampness of earth, the redolence of the field's love I raise to you…

The most precious of the precious, we anoint your tired faces with our slender fingers, and press our hearts on the triggers of your guns…

We wish we were with you…

Your fatigue is ours…

Your hunger is ours…

Your dread is ours…

And your victories honor's us…

Our beloved in Gaza…

We are with you… we are ashamed facing you…

We whoop with the fall of every martyr…

Don't forget that for every bridegroom you chant for in his wedding we teach his name to our children to chant it and get raised up in his memory…

O all the beloved that I know in Gaza…

O comrades of the shackles, hunger and fury…

Greetings for you the astounding… the thunder of the earth when the invaders feet step on our land…

Greetings comrades…

They retreat with your Somoud puzzled… they retreat to confer… those who told the whole world that they will wipe your names out of the whole world…

They may wipe out Gaza… but Gaza is like Beirut is not an open city… a flat village… nor in love with an Arabism flowing through dollar's cracks plated with dinars gold…

Greetings comrades in The Popular Front…The Democratic front… The Palestinian Communist Party… in Fateh…in Hamas… in Islamic Jihad… in Abu Ali Mustapha's Kataeb… in the Red Eagle Kataeb… in Asqalan and Nafha prisons…

Blessed are your efforts… blessed…

Your goodness is defused you our eyeballs and we reached… to expel sorrow and grieve… the echo of your voices endowed us with a new life… we sleep and wake up and our eyes still peering at you…

Blessed…Blessed…

You are the source of life and the dawn of the resurrected earth…

Blessed…you are our Koran and Gospel

you are our prophets and Imams…

Our Christ you are…

Blessed you are…

O our beloved defeat death…

And rewrite the Arab's epic…

·        Dr. William Nassar, music composer, academician, Arab writer living in exile…

·        http://www.williamnassar.com/

The Yelling of Pride

From her book: "The Yelling of Pride"
By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

I am the daughter of the Galilee…

The daughter of Christ’s Nazareth…

The daughter of the towering Galilee over the high hills…

In my ribs…

The eastern stars meeting grandfathers’ dreams…

From here I kiss them all…

To make the impossible, they rose…

The land they ruled and the sea they waded…

Then like eagles they died…

I am the daughter of the Galilee…

Different from all the world’s women I look…

From childhood… I feel I am…

The pride… glory… and grandeur…

Do you love??? I was asked…

I replied…

How men without a homeland would women they love???

I am a woman that myself I don’t fault..

And if once the heart betrays me…

I fight…!

Peace on you… I say…

Peace to the towering hills…

Peace for the homeland’s mothers…

and for the youngsters before dawn…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

Pure is my blood… proud is my soul…

From the high mountains, the woman I am…

A fountain at the mountain’s foot I am…

A Nazarene I am..

My mother… my sister..

My daughter… and my son too…

My blood’s path is frankincense… echo…

Trills and shrills I am…

A people’s song…

Howling in a racist grip…

******

An Arab I am…

It hurts me…

To vagabond my people…

Killing my eagles…

Demolishing my bridges…

by dumb hands…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

A Nazarene I am…

A descendent of a proud and disdainful people…

Aping the sky…

With a clear clean face…

My people’s history…

a record of pride it is…

my land my home…

my people’s stumps…

like a beacon…

shall always remain…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

And admonition I have…

O mother I learned…

The love of my land’s soil…

Arabs I admonished…

Admonition passes

The killing of the young…

The war prisoner’s fetters…

With admonition I am bore…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

Pure are my roots… proud are my branches…

My head I shall rise… up to the sky…

My bier I shall make… of pride’s roses…

My fragrance I shall spray… all around…

Everywhere to… is dear…

So as my scent… near me it remains…

To my people it reminds… that pride I am…

And my roots… the sky they reach…

That here I am… the plants… glory… and loftiness…

I live… I die… and light remains…

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
     
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

A Salute to Al-Quds (Jerusalem)

A Salute to Al-Quds

(Jerusalem)

By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

In spite of anxiety, sorrows and subjugation

O you Al-Quds we salute you, and defend you

In spite of violence, privation and the jailer

O you Al-Quds… we redeem you

In spite  of oppression, insurgence and bars

O Al-Quds… we call you

And all the eyes’ tears

It is not enough to bewail you

And all the  oppressor’s intrigues

Amazed we are of your defiance

*** * ***

In spite of oppression and sorrows

our churches and mosques are still

praying with the break of dawn

chanting at your heights

And the boy’s blood

O you Al-Quds… roaring in your lands

and in spite of shame and oppression

Years supporting us shall return

 silencing the oppressor’s voice

And expose tyrants’ lies 

O Al-Quds and God’s eye

in spite of restrain, violence in spite of blood

shall continue guarding you

*** * ***

O you Al-Quds… O you tears in the eyes

a day has come to weep for us

O you eternal dream

all the time… grieving and enervate us

and you our honorable Al-Quds

did our churches and mosques chant

And forgot our sorrows

*** * ***

Misery’s wreckage unified us

and broke our past age

and you became

O you Al-Quds shame distract us… like fires like ember

like blood’s sea… drowns us

And in our streams it flows

*** * ***

Stupidity to be driven today

Between shame… under lowliness

Between grudge’s streets 

Rusted did our swords become?

Stupidity today to be driven

When sorrows join us

If we forget a land of ours

shall not forget

shall not forget yielding in us

*** * ***

O Al-Quds… o you a sea of sorrows drowned us

O you a land that on faiths unified us

its news we didn’t hide

Love we buried in his sides

Patience die sometimes

And burdened us with silence’s chains

Weeping and discourse

Heart’s grief… orphans… and widows

And tears’ river wounds us

And with memory enlivens us

*** * ***

O Al-Quds… o you a life we conveyed

Sorrows we communed

Eternity and days we lived

O you Al-Quds our past we didn’t feel

Our mosques wailed

Our churches slept

Verses from the gospels and the Quran

their chanting faded

and like us died

O you Al-Quds

With things we promised them with things we knew

and our intentions they didn’t know

A banner over our heads we shall raise

And gather all our secrets

*** * ***

0 you Al-Quds

Sorrows we witnessed

In dreams… in days

In the glory of lit lanterns

In the world we quenched chastity’s thirst

To the learned… to the ignorant

In the city’s heart

their tyranny sickness became

With our hands we buried

and in yards on it we stepped

no trace for it we left

and with pride we quashed…

A prophet on the wood of the cross

with thorns we weighed him

and at dawn we disavowed him

O Al-Quds life is gone

In the play grounds of oppression

O Al-Quds suffering we lost

Between the grave yards of the beloved

how many an infant we without home we forgot

O my country life collapsed

would its memory return???

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
      
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

Recital of Words

Recital of Words

By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

Words with pride dance when I write them

and sends thanks a melody to its creator

letters magically fall like a shadow

on my pads to beautify them

wished they speak to hear them

narrate peoples tales that I used to

as if life crept into its gardens

then spirit become roses on its hillocks

in hardly heard whispering she talked to me

to awaken in me a love that in me it lives

with longing I crept even I could hug

and kiss the ground even confide to it

I wish a king I were and craving prompts me

To relate love singing in its rhymes

 with ecstasy he exhilarates for warbling enraptures him

he sang singing entrances

singing is soliloquy with God

we astounds the world with a letter that I was noting

on lines that I feared ink shall innervate it

the tears he sheds are black

 extracted secrets from my heart and revealed

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
   
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

The Slave Market

The Slave Market

Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated from Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

This poem was written in the memory of Arab workers killed in Ouyoun Qarah (Rishon LeZion) on 20/5/1990

Our address is: In Gaza, Khan Younis – Al-Khalil (1)
In Al-Quds, in the Ghour (2) – in the sad home
My friend: my tears and yours are twins
Crying? The first tear is crying
the eyes it wounds - it blasts them
Two sides are burning in the center
And the other tear
Separation…
Sorrows they awaken - separate us
Two tears are shed
Why is it O you time of subduing
Without security you accept that we live
our dreams…

a long routed life divides us
and babies' food it plunders from us and the place
and in the slave market we live
as with strife we live
on roads, our days aged
in fields,
by silence’s dust they are watched
feeling lost
black are our dreams
as the bereaved dress - dusted is the veil
and the same are our young ones
In my homeland and in the “shatat” (3)

***
A life’s time is your curse
Dawn’s light was an ousted thing throwing me
Sad between tigers' mouths
In my way things were jostling
and in my head
And in pain they were revolting
And time was informing me that the cursed incident
to us is approaching
Bullets shall pierce our sides tomorrow
the sun is setting from afar
agony shall in my head roam
devastation in my opinion is the cursed street
The damned killer in gaiety is carousing
Death’s shadow I saw wallowing in the lane
Disparity - all the people
with bullets are targeted

Sorrow told me
Fear in the world - the bitterness
of separation it carries
your stubborn temple I noticed
looming as mirage among temples
our steps slacken
in you I sunk my pains
A step I heard killing the faraway silence
of my fear I shouted
and of my pains
imprisoned we shall be anew!!!!
How many a prisoner in spite of prison
became like a stubborn mountain

I live in a homeland that
Loves flowers and poems
the warbling unique tone
the judgment of fate I accepted
To patronize you one day I accepted
In security
And in your heart I felt
Traces of ignominy
So I opened a healed wound
Two tears fell
To the ill-omened street I returned
To beg the coward
Asking him – around him I picked
blood I feared to let
 Two tears ran
From my pains I cried
And from my sorrow
and I admonished the place

***
For peace I searched
For security
The place revolted
The place revolted with pain
And in sorrow and it said:
Who told you that the deserted street
security gives you???!

The deserted street
Like sorrow it is
Like a beast
Malice, lowliness, contempt
 The deserted street
is a massacre and a battle
people die in it
whenever ill fate played
stumps hate are disarrayed
among its masses
confused sight disdains it
its ideas are imbecilic
they stumble whenever they are on a road
Goodness disdains them
O you the annoyance of time
To search in the earth’s filthy we came to search
For work to ease our hunger
But victims of time we became
Remains in the place we became
For a shield we ask people
For eyes we ask tears
To dampen our sorrows
O you the annoyance of time
The world's tale we became
The known street
A massacre, the boy shouts
The rubble what shall we do with it??
Would hate sink in our brain’s folds
Our dreams in peace are deeds
We watered them, they grew among us
In the ill-fated street is our blood
Flowing in glory near us
Don’t shed tears O our eyes
Still searching I am for the people’s remains
Our young ones shall grow among us
And see peace’s birds
Near us from pain they sing
don’t despair you our souls
No, no, don’t despair
Even if the whole world rises against us
The baby shall live with this rubble
The baby shall remove the traces of wreckage
No, no it shall not be bought and sold
in the world’s slave market

(1) Al-Khalil - Hebron
(2) the Ghour - The Jordan river lowland
(3) Shatat – The Palestinian diaspora

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".

Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.

Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.

Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
      
Posts of the writer:

.          Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication.