Bryan's boyfriend.
Naval writer and information
At one of my home ' s cultural salon sessions, two large wall-sized paintings hanging on the walls of the room of the poet Mahmoud Darwish looked at one of the attendees. «I thought you were amateur, and I didn't expect to see you in your house instead of two paintings for the one that matches with a brown butcher in poetry and doesn't cross!»I'm sorry.
I answered: «I'd like to add that there's a third painting of him in my office to complete the triple, and if the poetry of my stubborn lovers, the poems of Mahmoud Darwish, my secret garden, were filled in search of a different beauty and a poetic allergies, even though there were many replicated models.»I'm sorry.
This droychi shroud is not an emergency, its roots are at the beginning of my literary formation and I am at the beginning of college, and unlike many, I did not know Darwish ' s hair through his worms, nor from his evening records by giving him the left wizard, my gate was to his hair. «I bow to my mother's bread.» And...«Promises from the storm.» The other magnetic poems that have struck me with the advent of a generation of Bahraini youth, formerly from my generation at the university, were influenced by the idea of the left, through which we learned the committed thought of literature and art.
I recall that my first contact with the hair of Mahmoud Darwish, read indistinctly, was on the night of the mid-1980s in a friend ' s home belonging to a technical family, and that, in that evening, all of our songs were from Marcel and Majda al-Rome, this was a time of national sentiment and national thought, one of the young people present was given a couple of hairs for their praises. «My girlfriend's getting up from her sleep.» And the other. «High Shadow praise»They were the bridge I crossed from the banks of the nascent river to the droid bank, and I kept most poems. «High Shadow praise» Like a lot of guys looking at her high singing, and I ran a lot of her dads, just like the beginning of a song on the tongue we can't change.
You've stabilized this dramatic shift. I've got two consecutive years of band parties. «Bells.» The poems of Drewish were the main part of their singing program, and I kept visiting with a cafeteria of my Drewish garden, once through a controversy with a friend whose hair was shining like a nazaar wax, another via Marcel Khalifa and his poem glory, and a third through a paper with a paper from a college researcher. «Crazy dirt.»He handed me the key to getting into his hair, and I announced my lover to the hair of Mahmoud Darwish after I considered the ad to be a betrayal of my love of Nazar Qabani poetry, a day that I read a dialogue with Mahmoud Darwish on the pages of a magazine. «Journal» It depicts the page's chest. Address by line. «Who didn't benefit from a Spanish butcher, lift his finger.»I'm sorry.
My personal meeting with Sha ' ar Mahmoud Darwish was delayed only a year and a half before he left. In February 2007, the first session of the International Hebrew Forum was held in Cairo, with the name of the Grand poet Salah Abdul Sabour, the star of the meeting was Mahmoud Darwish, and I wanted to be invited to her not as a mediator, but as a poet writing her poem. «We meet with Brewen.» I also wanted to be a resident of the same hotel where Darwish was coming down.
The other day, I had two impressions that the days had made me their senses: first, Drewish had to talk about his revolutionary poems that initially made his fame, like his famous poem. «I'm an Arab.»I recall that in his recent poetic evenings, he refused to read it when the public asked for it. «Woman's poet.» And Drewish doesn't want to be deceived as well. «Revolutionary poet»And the second impression is that he was a self-esteem, and my mind was running a comparison between me and my visitor years ago in his London house. «In your absence.» My bed table goes down and he laughs and says, «Watch out. They'll give you a break.»I'm sorry.
The other day, I had two impressions that the days had made me their senses: first, Drewish had to talk about his revolutionary poems that initially made his fame, like his famous poem. «I'm an Arab.»I recall that in his recent poetic evenings, he refused to read it when the public asked for it. «Woman's poet.» And Drewish doesn't want to be deceived as well. «Revolutionary poet»And the second impression is that he was a self-esteem, and my mind was running a comparison between me and my visitor years ago in his London house. «In your absence.» My bed table goes down and he laughs and says, «Watch out. They'll give you a break.»I'm sorry.
At that meeting, Mahmoud Darwish was scared of being alone, and he was telling us how he was blocking his door without being locked in the key. His friend's death was present in his mind the day he was scheduled to gather them a poetry evening with a ceremonial monstrous in London, and a politico had a heart attack after which he died in the hotel room, and his death was discovered only a day later because he was wearing a sign. «Please don't bother.» On his door.
After this time, Mahmoud Darwish died in Houston, America, on 9 August 2008, following his open-heart operation.
The Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish left 17 years, yet his voice remains high. «In your absence.»Young people carry their poems, musicians inspire their hair, not the only tribes in it, and his poem alone still has the components of the magical stroke between the mass spread and the appreciation of the educated elite, without the slightest technical compromise. «The audience needs it.»And not in the mental schizophrenia wrapped in the nausea to which I often slipped the modern poem, it's enough that when we read Darwish's hair, we actually make sure that on this earth what is worth living...
