Elia Abu Madi Mahmoud Darwish Ghenname Zohra Nizar Sartawi Nada Amine Awar Algerian Poets Rifat Ilgaz Walid Saba Nizar Qabbani Nazim Hikmet Mohammed Dib Ibn Arabi. The brush trembles in my hands and I sink, weeping. The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue. My son licks it up, astonished, saying: 'But this is a tear, father, not a poem!' And I tell him: 'When you grow up, my son, and read the diwan of Arabic poetry you'll discover that the word and the tear are twins and the Arabic poem is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers.' My son lays down his pens, his crayon box in front of me and asks me to draw a homeland for him. My son mocks my ignorance, demanding, 'Don't you know, Father, the difference between a wheatstalk and a gun?' I tell him, 'Son, once I used to know the shapes of wheatstalks the shape of the loaf the shape of the rose But in this hardened time the trees of the forest have joined the militia men and the rose wears dull fatigues In this time of armed wheatstalks armed birds armed culture and armed religion you can't buy a loaf without finding a gun inside you can't pluck a rose in the field without its raising its thorns in your face you can't buy a book that doesn't explode between your fingers.' My son sits at the edge of my bed and asks me to recite a poem, A tear falls from my eyes onto the pillow. I've forgotten the shapes of birds.' My son puts the drawing book in front of me and asks me to draw a wheatstalk.
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Astonishment fills his eyes: '… But this is a prison, Father, Don't you know, how to draw a bird?' And I tell him: 'Son, forgive me. His poetic style combines simplicity and elegance in.
Into the color gray I dip the brush and draw a square with locks and bars. «Because my love for you ´ Is higher than words, ´ I have decided to fall silent.» - Poem by Nizar Qabbani <3 ´´´´´´´ Nizar Tawfiq Qabbani (Arabic:, Nizr Tawfq Qabbn) (21 March 1923 30 April 1998) was a Syrian diplomat, poet and publisher. When all the beautiful sentiments are vanishing, when pen is giving way to gun, there is no homeland for writers who really care and weep for. See more ideas about arabic poetry, poetry quotes, love quotes. My son places his paint box in front of me and asks me to draw a bird for him. A Lesson In Drawing by Nizar Qabbani Delete this message When you grow up, my son, and read the diwan of Arabic poetry youll discover that the word and the tear are twins and the Arabic poem is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers. Explore N a t a s h a A l k a s board 'Nizar Qabbani', followed by 109 people on Pinterest.
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