Love the Land حب الارض


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ما اروع حب الارض

❤️

حب الارض عبادة فهو يعمر القلب بالشكر والامتنان ويطلق اللسان بالذكر والحمد ويسمو بالروح الى مراتب القرب والعرفان ❤️

حب الارض مقاومة
فهو يرد على من يريدون تدمير الحياة باعتناق الحياة وغرسها والعناية بها حتى تثمر وتزهر

حب الارض شفاء للجسد والعقل والقلب والروح

 

❤️ ❤️

How splendid love of the land is !

Loving the land is a prayer, it fills the heart with grace and gratitude, moves the tongue with songs, prayers and praise, and elevates the soul in awareness and intimacy ❤️

Love the land is resistance !

It is a practical response to those who want to destroy life; by embracing, planting and caring for life until it yields and blooms

Love of the earth is a therapy and healing for body, mind, heart and soul 

 

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حنين


.
لاجئ مزمن، زمهرير الغربة القارس يزجك في اعماق الاماني الندية بحثا في ثنايا ذاكرتك المنهكة المفعمة بالحنين عن بعضك الذي اضعته ذات ليلة دامعة
تحاول بلهفة مرتجفة ان ترسم معالم زمن مضى وتلون وجوها مسح تقاطيعها ألم دفين، فتزرع زعترا اخضرفي غير موسمه ولا زمانه ولا مكانه، في بلاد بعيدة وبين شعوب غريبة لا تعرف للزعتر اسما ولا رسما ولا طعما
تترفق وانت تقطف وريقاته الغضة عسى بعطره ان يطير بك الى حاكورة بيت عتيق على سفح الجبل، حيث يرقد الحسون في عشه ويغفو السنونوعلى غصن شجرة لوز
تبني بيديك طابونا من الطين، عسى ان تحملك رائحة خبزه الى زمن جميل كان وما عاد او الى حضن جدة دافئ، وتترقرق جداول الامل المعجونة بالالم، دموع فرح حزين ويخال لك كأنما بال(طين) قد استرجعت بعضا من فلسطين
وتعجن وتخبز وتحشو فطائر الزعتر في بلاد العجم التي ما اعترفت يوما بك كتاريخ او جغرافيا او حقوق او حضارة ولسان حالك يقول لهم آه لو تعلمون، لرأيتم الثرى يباهي الثريا ان داسته اقدام اجدادي، فترد الثريا بل الفخر لي ان اخلاقهم علت عليّا

Nostalgia


.

A chronic refugee, the bitter​ exhausting​ exile​ throws you into the depths of dewy dreamy aspirations​. You ran frantically searching​ for you​ between the folds of your exhausted, nostalgic memories, which ​you’ve lost​ on​ce upon a​ tearful night.

With trembling eagerness, you try to trace the features of a time long gone, and paint faces that had lost its miens, expressions and demeanor, to a deeply buried pain.

You sow za’ater seeds, during the wrong season, wrong time and wrong place, in faraway lands, amidst strangers who do not know its name, colour, scent or flavour.

You tenderly pick its budding leaves, hoping that its perfume would fly you away to a childhood orchard with an ancient house at the foothills, where a goldfinch dozed off in its nest, and a swallow slumbered on a almond tree branch.

You lovingly build a taboon, a clay oven, with your bare hands, hoping that the aroma of its bread would carry you away one day, to a distant land and a beautiful time which once was, never to return, or rock you to sleep, in the warm arms of your grandmother.

Springs of hope plaited with pain, gush through your anguished soul. Tears of grieving joy flow, so much so that for a moment, you would imagine that with a lump of terracotta clay between your fingers, a chunk of Palestine had been liberated.

Kneading, rolling, baking and stuffing za’ater pies in the land of Balfour, which has never recognized you, your history, your geography, your rights, your humanity or your civilization.

You scream silently: O you, if only you knew !  You would have seen the soil of my homeland boasting before the stars, that my ancestors had meandered over it. With a huge grin, the stars would respond: glory is all mine for their love, hospitality and kindness have surpassed my lofty skies.

 

Time is Now


.

Humanity now is Palestinian

What Palestinians have seen is a worldwide scene

I think you agree

Fasten your belts, hold on tight

The ride is about to go berserk

Bellies of usurers wobble on screens

Stuffed, wealth vulgar obscene

Money-lenders smirk as the world goes down

Financial collapse, foreclosure, disease, lock-down

Baby-killers run amok, invincible they feel, with egos grandiose

Splashing purity’s blood on Lucifer’s shrine

Their soul-void eyes, lifeless blackholes

Raging, flames of fury and hate

 

Against God Almighty, declared unholy war

Against Life itself, waged bombastic strike

Sucked life out of Life, starved the poor

Made sick the frail and killed the pure

 

This is the calm before the storm

Darkness to descend, followed by dawn

No ifs, no buts, and no delay

Gather your crumbling self, run outside

Rejoice in a mountain, embrace the land

Kiss the soil beneath your feet

Sow a seed, inhale a rose, hug a tree

Water with your soulful tears

Sprinkle with your powdered heart

A dash of agony, if need be

 

 

Let those who care, plant some more

Let those who have, share with those in need

Silence your words, speak with deeds

Bake a loaf, the hungry feed

A sip of water give to the parched

Be it your kin, neighbour or foe

It is time now, to be a Palestinian

 

Creator of Life is wide awake, I promise you

All loving, all patient, also all aware

Divine Intervention, a mighty blow

Awaits the vain who take life in vain

Enemies of life, plucked, once and for all

The wealth they’ve amassed burned to ashes

Kingdom of gloom perished to doom

 

 

Keep your calm, remain in sync

Contain your fear, tend love serene

The One in Charge won’t let you down

Light will shine on Earth anew

Flowers will smile, Meadows will sway

Butterflies will dance, children will play

 

Childhood Songs


Out of the blue, I was sent this video clip of some old songs we used to sing as children in the school playground, in Palestine.

An emotional volcano erupted  

🌿 🌺 🌿 🌺 🌿 🌺 🌿 🌺 🌿 🌺 🌿

 

Taken aback, by a click of a thumb

Grabbed by the kernel of my soul

Sobbing uncontrollably

Gates of a besieged heart flung open

* * *

Nostalgic euphoria laced in melancholy

Spun me back in time

A little girl of Palestine

Dreamy eyes and a ponytail

Swaying with schoolmates

Hand in hand

* * *

Stretched out meadows and rocky playgrounds

Bashful sparrows watching from afar

Giggling children, running aimlessly, with eyes open wide

Buoyantly dancing as if in Paradise

Singing melodies for a school they revere

A loving teacher, a mother they adore

Humming grace for an enchanted land

Of Her Love


Author Issa Issa Qawasmi, translation Nahida Izzat


Seventy years on, the heart is still loaded with the same question, memory or amnesia?


Every Jerusalemite is born deeply involved in belonging,

A forbidden love that turns pulse into shrapnel,

A love carrying its identity from the wound of the place,

A love transparent, as a woman’s body, does not need much of beauty frills,

A love suffice for the universe and life without a question,

A love that relinquishes its thirst from the essence of a mirage,

A love which has no need for the wisdom of distant far away sister-cities, captured in the trap of humiliation and disgrace,

A love that passionately safeguards holiness, history, geography and reasons for survival,

A love overflowing between two wars, such as a bird nesting between Earth and the Sky,

A love, free, outside coincidence, like astonishment before the door of the Resurrection,

A love of which facts, evidence and the patience of enemies got exhausted,

A love that does not tire of interpreting love,

A love against treason or amnesia,

A love that resembles Jerusalem.

​On the fringes of my heart, I chose to love you,

Everything about you is lovable

​Forgive me if the age of my pulse is short,

I love you when a cloud injures me,

​and when the road does not lead me to you,

I love you if a moon rises in your palm and if your intimacy becomes hell,

I love you as I ran out of me to you, as the narcissus of your eyes brought me as a stranger,

I love you when I ​am alone​, the heart ​left with nothing but prayer and nostalgia,

I forget you, ​to get closer to you,

I forget you​,​ ​for in you I ​recover​ ​everything I ​ever lost.

 

بقلم الاديب المقدسي عيسى القواسمي وترجمة ناهدة عزت

سبعون عاما والقلب لا زال محملا بذات السؤال ، الذاكرة أم النسيان ؟كل مقدسي يولد متورطآ بالإنتماء ، حب محرم يحول النبض الى شظايا ، حب يحمل هويته من جرح المكان ، حب شفاف كجسد إمرأة لا يحتاج الى الكثير من رتوش الجمال ، حب يكفي الكون والعمر دون سؤال ، حب يروي عطشه من جوهر السراب ، حب لا يحتاج الى حكمة المدن الشقيقة البعيدة النائية الواقعة في فخ الذل والهوان ، حب ينتصر للقداسة والتاريخ والجغرافيا وأسباب البقاء ، حب فاض بين حربين مثل طير صنع أيكه بين الأرض والسماء ، حب حر خارج الصدفة كالدهشة أمام باب القيامة ، حب ضجرت منه الحقائق والبراهين وصبر الأعداء ، حب لا يتعب من تفسير الحب ، حب يشبه القدس ، حب ضد الخيانة أو النسيان

على هامش قلبي ، إخترت أن أحبك ، فكل ما فيك يحب … وأغفري لي إن كان عمر
النبض قصير ، أحبك حين تجرحني غيمة ولا تصوبني إليك الطريق ، أحبك إن
إرتفع قمر في كفك وصار وصالك جحيم ، أحبك إذ خرجت مني إليك وأعادني نرجس
عينيك كالغريب ، أحبك حين أترك وحيدآ ولا يمتلك القلب سوى صلاة وحنين .
وأنساك لأقترب منك ، أنساك فبك كل ما أضعت أستعيد .

 

I defy


 

I defy your destruction

I build, I fix, I beautify

 

I defy your mass murder

I protect, I cherish, I give birth to life

 

I defy your poisoning of nature

I clean, I plant, I help my garden bloom

 

I defy your demons

I Love, I care, I nurture the soul I am

 

The Story of a Land


 

Once upon some golden days

In a far away land above the clouds

There lived and thrived a tiny town

So close to Heaven, they called it Holy

A fig tree, bed of roses and a mulberry

A door, two windows, a grassy mud roof

Therein lived a girl with a cheeky grin

She fell in love as she opened her eyes

The moment she saw this land of glory

Whose heart wouldn’t melt and sway

Before this beauty, dazzled, anyway?

A hymn of angels, melody so sweet

For yearning souls, supreme retreat

Mistaken for Arcadia, as you meander

Tranquil serene, you’d think you’ve passed away

Scarlet poppies adorned her face

Blushed her cheeks with a hint of grace

Upon sleepy hill, rejoiced her children

Between her meadows, ran up and down

Her name they sung morning to twilight

Palestine, Palestine, Palestine

While she dozed off, one peaceful night

Catastrophe fell, upon her sacred ground

Hoards from hell came dashing in

Grabbed her neck with blood-soaked hands

Smashed her head against the wall

Slashed her throat with an army knife

Left her bleeding, from that day on

The land that’s holy fell to the ground

Closed her eyes, into coma nightmare

Cast in a spell of agony and pain

Her glass coffin you’ve already seen

Daily display on your TV screen

Sleeping beauty lies so still

Awaiting her prince in amble fortitude

A prince of peace to kiss her back to life

Heal her wounds with love grandiose

Sing her hallowed name, solemn and divine

Hold her splendid soul forevermore

Palestine, Palestine, Palestine

The Soul of Palestine in One Photo


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In this article  about the photo above, the author concludes “there is nothing beautiful or poetic about the oppression of Palestinians”, which, taken in abstract, is a true statement, however, the author totally misses the point

This iconic photo is not representing the oppression of Palestinians, to the contrary!

This breathtakingly beautiful photo has captured the hearts and minds of Palestine supporters around the world because everything about it is exquisitely beautiful and fiercely poetic as it sums up in one glance the essence of Palestine and its people

Their spirit, courage, dignity, defiance, steadfastness, determination, resistance, altruism and hope against all odds, in the face of the most brutal oppression.

What makes this photo so endearing and captivating is the utter spontaneity !

No poses for the shoot, no makeup, no rehearsal, no tweaking, totally oblivious to camera lenses, to the outside world, to the consequences

Courage that defies logic

Indescribable love of the land

Untamed passion for freedom

Unfathomable will to sacrifice

All what matters is to stand up against oppression and to stop evil by all means possible ❤️

Thus, this iconic photo should be shown to every man woman and child in the world to inspire, uplift and energise if we, as a species, ever aspire for a better, fairer, kinder more humane world

من تكوني؟


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يا قدسُ . . . . قد حيرتني

يا قدسُ  من تكوني؟

أطهُر الطفولة أنت

أعطرُ الجنان أنت

أربيعُ الكون أنت

أفجرُ الأمانيّ أنت

أندى النرجس أنت

* * *

أبسمةُ حبيبي أنت

أدمعةُ جدّي أنت

أثوبُ جدتي أنت

أحضن أبي أنت

أرغيفُ أمي أنت

أضحكة أخي أنت

أعيني أختي أنت

أتغريد السنونو أنت

* * *

أصدقُ النبوة أنت

أروحُ الملائك أنت

أقلبُ القلوب أنت

أزهرةُ المدائن أنت

أعشقُ النسّاك أنت

أدربُ الصالحين أنت

أسَكَنُ السكينة أنت

أمحرابُ العابدين أنت

أمقبرةُ الظالمين أنت

أمنبت الحنون أنت

أأرض المرابطين أنت

أمحضن الشهداء أنت

أملتقى العائدين أنت

أحبلُ السماء أنت

أبابُ الجنة أنت

أوعد ُ الاله أنت

أسرُّ الأسرار أنت

أقدسُ  الأقداس أنت

أنقطة عناق الأرض للسماء أنت

 

يا قدسُ . . . . قد حيرتني

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