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<font size=3>Remembering Mahmoud Darwish <br>
Tribute, <i>The Electronic Intifada,</i> 11 August 2008 <br>
<a href="http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article9754.shtml" eudora="autourl">
http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article9754.shtml<br><br>
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<img src="http://electronicintifada.net/artman2/uploads/2/080811-darwish.jpg" width=483 height=322 alt="[]">
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Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, who passed away on 9 August, recites
one of his poems in the West Bank city of Ramallah, July 2008. (Mustafa
Abu Dayeh/<a href="http://www.maanimages.com">MaanImages</a>) <br><br>
Mahmoud Darwish, the iconic Palestinian poet passed away on 9 August in
Houston, Texas at the age of 67 following unsuccessful heart bypass
surgery. The Electronic Intifada editorial team share the sadness of the
Palestinian and world literary communities and express their condolences
to his family.<br><br>
Over the next few days, EI will be publishing a number of tributes to
Darwish. We begin with his own words, his 1964 poem "Identity
Card," from his first collection, <i>Leaves of Olives</i>. The
verses express the spirit resistance of Palestinians in the face exile
and dispossession. Among his best known poems, it has lost none of its
power a generation after it was first written.<br><br>
"Identity card"<br><br>
Write down!<br>
I am an Arab<br>
And my identity card number is fifty thousand<br>
I have eight children<br>
And the ninth will come after a summer<br>
Will you be angry?<br><br>
Write down!<br>
I am an Arab<br>
Employed with fellow workers at a quarry<br>
I have eight children<br>
I get them bread<br>
Garments and books<br>
from the rocks ...<br>
I do not supplicate charity at your doors<br>
Nor do I belittle myself at the footsteps of your chamber<br>
So will you be angry?<br><br>
Write down!<br>
I am an Arab<br>
I have a name without a title<br>
Patient in a country<br>
Where people are enraged<br>
My roots<br>
Were entrenched before the birth of time<br>
And before the opening of the eras<br>
Before the pines, and the olive trees<br>
And before the grass grew<br><br>
My father ... descends from the family of the plow<br>
Not from a privileged class<br>
And my grandfather ... was a farmer<br>
Neither well-bred, nor well-born!<br>
Teaches me the pride of the sun<br>
Before teaching me how to read<br>
And my house is like a watchman's hut<br>
Made of branches and cane<br>
Are you satisfied with my status?<br>
I have a name without a title!<br><br>
Write down!<br>
I am an Arab<br>
You have stolen the orchards of my ancestors<br>
And the land which I cultivated<br>
Along with my children<br>
And you left nothing for us<br>
Except for these rocks ...<br>
So will the State take them<br>
As it has been said?!<br><br>
Therefore!<br>
Write down on the top of the first page:<br>
I do not hate people<br>
Nor do I encroach<br>
But if I become hungry<br>
The usurper's flesh will be my food<br>
Beware ...<br>
Beware ...<br>
Of my hunger<br>
And my anger! <br><br>
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