Sign in with Facebook
Loading...
6th out of 52 books
—
25 voters
Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems
Mahmoud Darwish is a literary rarity: at once critically acclaimed as one of the most important poets in the Arabic language, and beloved as the voice of his people. He is a living legend whose lyrics are sung by fieldworkers and schoolchildren. He has assimilated some of the world's oldest literary traditions at the same time that he has struggled to open new possibilitie...more
Paperback, 210 pages
Published
January 28th 2003
by University of California Press
(first published December 29th 2002)
Friend Reviews
To see what your friends thought of this book,
please sign up.
Community Reviews
(showing
1-30
of
444)
I found Darwish's writing really moving - especially selections from Fewer Roses.
The mood of the translated texts are heavy with grief, loss, being lost and exiled, cast adrift, homeless and landless. The simple starkness of "Athens Airport" "What is your address? A woman of our group says: My village is the bundle on my back."
The poet holds on, almost desperately to memories, mood, language and
imagination to recreate his paradise lost. Time is "timeless" as if stunted and standing still -- lock...more
The mood of the translated texts are heavy with grief, loss, being lost and exiled, cast adrift, homeless and landless. The simple starkness of "Athens Airport" "What is your address? A woman of our group says: My village is the bundle on my back."
The poet holds on, almost desperately to memories, mood, language and
imagination to recreate his paradise lost. Time is "timeless" as if stunted and standing still -- lock...more
The Owl's Night
There is, here, a present not embraced by the past.
When we reached the last of the trees, we knew we were unable to pay attention.
And when we returned to the ships, we saw absence piling up its chosen objects
and pitching its eternal tent around us.
There is, here, a present not embraced by the past.
A silken thread is drawn out of mulberry trees
forming letters on the page of night.
Only the butterflies cast light upon our boldness
in plunging into the pit of strange words.
Was this con...more
There is, here, a present not embraced by the past.
When we reached the last of the trees, we knew we were unable to pay attention.
And when we returned to the ships, we saw absence piling up its chosen objects
and pitching its eternal tent around us.
There is, here, a present not embraced by the past.
A silken thread is drawn out of mulberry trees
forming letters on the page of night.
Only the butterflies cast light upon our boldness
in plunging into the pit of strange words.
Was this con...more
For some reason, my initial response to Darwish's poetry when I first started reading it was negative. It seemed gloomy and hopeless. But after a short break I came back to it and was strangely enchanted. "Strangely," because Darwish's poetry is, for me, like no other other literary landscape I have ever visited. It is big, somewhat like T.S. Eliot's but less densely populated, which makes it feel even bigger, and it is full of all sorts of optical illusions that make me go pleasurably cross-eye...more
Oct 16, 2008
Phayvanh
rated it
3 of 5 stars
Recommends it for:
poets
Recommended to Phayvanh by:
ALAG3, Kazim
I skipped the last 20 pages of the Murals poem. I couldn't get into it, and after that, the rest of the book was a breeze.
I'm drawn to Darwish's motifs, the horses and birds and the expanse of the landscape that the poems inhabit. Also drawn to the poems that use song-like repetitive lines.
The long-ish poems trip me up, since on the surface, they seem to be a series of disjointed ideas. The Hoopoe one was the most coherent for me, though I I'm still not sure how I feel about it.
The book opens...more
I'm drawn to Darwish's motifs, the horses and birds and the expanse of the landscape that the poems inhabit. Also drawn to the poems that use song-like repetitive lines.
The long-ish poems trip me up, since on the surface, they seem to be a series of disjointed ideas. The Hoopoe one was the most coherent for me, though I I'm still not sure how I feel about it.
The book opens...more
Mahmoud Darwish is the somewhat official poet laureate of Palestine, and his recent selected poems Unfortunately, It Was Paradise is a dynamic lyric voice full of wild imagery mixed with the fury of scripture. His voice is calm poverty in a storm of mideast chaos, a man who lived through and mourns the first Israeli invasion of Lebanon, but was himself inspired to write by the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai. With Israel currently shelling the entire state of Lebanon into the ashes of history, and n...more
Delicate, stained, and mottled from the Middle-Eastern sun, this collection is as beautiful as a desert dune swept into place one day, and out the next.
A great title, a great poet, a great collection. If Darwish's name on it, you can safely assume that it will be worthwhile.
A lot of the Middle Eastern poetry that I've read has been in a rhythm or voice that hasn't felt quite comfortable to me. It may be that something is missing in the translation, but I think it's probably just the influence of different tradition. This volume fit into that generalization. Very thick with oblique, sometimes mixed (?) metaphors. So this wasn't the easiest poetry to fall into, but when it struck me, it really struck me. As in, I would like to own this book. I might give it a reread...more
Best book title ever, no contest
beautiful!!
darwish is a palestinian poet. longing, and the (impossible) quest for a home, are the recurring themes in these wonderfully translated poems. these poems build a deep and immediate relationship with you as you read them -- they give you the impression of walking slowly alongside a smiling, if teary-eyed, ageless bard, who contains boundless wisdom, and is able to sing you to sleep or sing you to revolution in one second flat.
darwish is a palestinian poet. longing, and the (impossible) quest for a home, are the recurring themes in these wonderfully translated poems. these poems build a deep and immediate relationship with you as you read them -- they give you the impression of walking slowly alongside a smiling, if teary-eyed, ageless bard, who contains boundless wisdom, and is able to sing you to sleep or sing you to revolution in one second flat.
This is one of the most beautiful and poignant collections I've read in any form of writing. Darwish captures longing, nostalgia and love in complex and intricate ways while remaining relatively accessible. His topics are wide, from family, to friends, to homeland, to love. Known as the de facto "poet laureate" of Palestine, his work is a monument to humanity and is absolutely a must-read.
A masterful, surealist poet, who experiences his subjectivity as lesser than the contexts of his and his people's hisory. Some of the most unique and powerful poetry I've ever encountered.
Check out VQR: http://www.vqronline.org/articles/200...
If you haven't read any Darwish, this is the book to read.
beautiful. i hear it is more beautiful in Arabic.
beautiful
My favorite poet!
May 17, 2013
Sarah
marked it as to-read
May 16, 2013
Leen rashdan
marked it as to-read
May 14, 2013
Humera
marked it as to-read
May 12, 2013
Ricechai
marked it as to-read
May 11, 2013
Mohamed Fadl
marked it as to-read
May 08, 2013
Merna
marked it as to-read
May 08, 2013
Carynliz
marked it as to-read
May 05, 2013
Ğệgẻ Cøöl xƿ
marked it as to-read
May 05, 2013
Daldoula
marked it as to-read
May 05, 2013
Fatima
marked it as to-read
May 01, 2013
Nora
marked it as to-read
Apr 30, 2013
منيرة
marked it as to-read
There are no discussion topics on this book yet.
Be the first to start one »
Mahmoud Darwish (13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008) was a respected Palestinian poet and author who won numerous awards for his literary output and was regarded as the Palestinian national poet. In his work, Palestine became a metaphor for the loss of Eden, birth and resurrection, and the anguish of dispossession and exile.
More about Mahmoud Darwish...
Share This Book
No trivia or quizzes yet. Add some now »
“We are captives, even if our wheat grows over the fences/ and swallows rise from our broken chains./ We are captives of what we love, what we desire, and what we are.”
—
7 people liked it
“The poem is in my hands, and can run stories through her hands.”
—
6 people liked it
More quotes…
Oct 15, 2008 07:27pm