I Come From There

And interestingly, a friend sent me this on the day I wrote the first blog entry.

Apparently it was also submitted to that website by a C.K. It's a poem by the recently deceased Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish, and touches on some of the same thoughts I found myself turning over on my plate the same day.

I Come From There

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.

I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland.....


Submitted by C.K.

Mahmoud Darwish