Poetry Beyond Borders - شعر بلا حدود The Potcast Productions
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- Arts
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Poetry goes beyond all borders, a language unto itself. Listen to literary experts, Dr. Magda Hasabelnaby and Dr. Rafey Habib, recite and discuss poetry from diverse cultures and eras, enabling you to grasp the power of spoken poetry.
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Poem Recitation: In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
In this episode, we recite Mahmoud Darwish's powerful poem "In Jerusalem." After discussing and analyzing our interpretation in the previous episode, we now invite you to enjoy a captivating recitation of the poem itself.
Poetry goes beyond all borders, a language unto itself. In Poetry Beyond Borders, listen to literary experts, Dr. Magda Hasabelnaby and Dr. Rafey Habib, recite and discuss poetry from diverse cultures and eras, enabling you to grasp the power of spoken poetry.
Dr. Magda Hasabelnaby is a Professor of English and comparative literature, Ain Shams Univ. Cairo.
Dr. Rafey Habib is a Distinguished Professor of English at Rutgers University in the USA
In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
Translated by Fady Joudah
In Jerusalem, and I mean within the ancient walls,
I walk from one epoch to another without a memory
to guide me. The prophets over there are sharing
the history of the holy ... ascending to heaven
and returning less discouraged and melancholy, because love
and peace are holy and are coming to town.
I was walking down a slope and thinking to myself: How
do the narrators disagree over what light said about a stone?
Is it from a dimly lit stone that wars flare up?
I walk in my sleep. I stare in my sleep. I see
no one behind me. I see no one ahead of me.
All this light is for me. I walk. I become lighter. I fly
then I become another. Transfigured. Words
sprout like grass from Isaiah’s messenger
mouth: “If you don’t believe you won’t be safe.”
I walk as if I were another. And my wound a white
biblical rose. And my hands like two doves
on the cross hovering and carrying the earth.
I don’t walk, I fly, I become another,
transfigured. No place and no time. So who am I?
I am no I in ascension’s presence. But I
think to myself: Alone, the prophet Muhammad
spoke classical Arabic. “And then what?”
Then what? A woman soldier shouted:
Is that you again? Didn’t I kill you?
I said: You killed me ... and I forgot, like you, to die. -
Poem Discussion: In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
In our first episode, we start with “resistance poetry”, and who better to start with than the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish? Let’s take you on a journey as we recite and discuss the poem “In Jerusalem” by Mahmoud Darwish, translated by Fady Joudah.
Poetry goes beyond all borders, a language unto itself. In Poetry Beyond Borders, listen to literary experts, Dr. Magda Hasabelnaby and Dr. Rafey Habib, recite and discuss poetry from diverse cultures and eras, enabling you to grasp the power of spoken poetry.
Dr. Magda Hasabelnaby is a Professor of English and comparative literature, Ain Shams Univ. Cairo.
Dr. Rafey Habib is a Distinguished Professor of English at Rutgers University in the USA
In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
Translated by Fady Joudah
In Jerusalem, and I mean within the ancient walls,
I walk from one epoch to another without a memory
to guide me. The prophets over there are sharing
the history of the holy ... ascending to heaven
and returning less discouraged and melancholy, because love
and peace are holy and are coming to town.
I was walking down a slope and thinking to myself: How
do the narrators disagree over what light said about a stone?
Is it from a dimly lit stone that wars flare up?
I walk in my sleep. I stare in my sleep. I see
no one behind me. I see no one ahead of me.
All this light is for me. I walk. I become lighter. I fly
then I become another. Transfigured. Words
sprout like grass from Isaiah’s messenger
mouth: “If you don’t believe you won’t be safe.”
I walk as if I were another. And my wound a white
biblical rose. And my hands like two doves
on the cross hovering and carrying the earth.
I don’t walk, I fly, I become another,
transfigured. No place and no time. So who am I?
I am no I in ascension’s presence. But I
think to myself: Alone, the prophet Muhammad
spoke classical Arabic. “And then what?”
Then what? A woman soldier shouted:
Is that you again? Didn’t I kill you?
I said: You killed me ... and I forgot, like you, to die.