A secret sky

Wadih Saadeh A Secret Sky Wadih Saadeh A Secret Sky 1992 Translated from Arabic by Anne Fairbairn Ginninderra Press – A Secret Sky Contents Introduction 5 That Day 26 Preface 8 Companions 27 Shadows 10 He Said 28 Glances 11 The Companion 29 Lilies 12 Life 30 The Dead Are Sleeping 13 His Face 31 Dawn Death 14 Names of the Dead 32 Night Visit 15 The Conscience of Hunters 16 One Who Is Absent Threshold 17 Drowning 34 Leaf 18 With Them 35 Mysterious Sky 19 The Place of Roses 36 Homecoming 20 My Mother 37 Absence 21 My Father 38 A Tree Destination 39 22 33 Words 23 The Exhausted People If 24 Migration 41 His shadow Walking Away 25 – A Secret Sky 40 42 Introduction When I first studied Wadih Sa’adeh’s poetry I enjoyed his work so much I decided I would like to compile a volume of his poems For many years I have been endeavouring to build a bridge of understanding between Arab countries and Australia and between the Arabic-speaking community in Australia and English speakers My serious interest in Arabic poetry began in 1980 when I met Dr Hussam Al Khatibe, Palestinian Professor of Arabic Studies at the university of Damascus He told me that Arabs are passionate about their language and are by nature poets He explained that although poets still write classical poetry, using the same forms, metre, rhymes and images that have been used by poets for more than a thousand years, many poets of this century are finding new forms to express more adequately how they feel about the immense changes taking place around them He recited poems by Syrian poets Nizzar Qabbani and Adonis (Ali Ahmad Sa’id), Iraqi poet Nazik al-Mala’ika, Palestinian poet Fadwa Tuqan and Lebanese poets Khalil Hawi and Unsi alHaj, leaders of the free verse movement As a result of expanding contact with the West, a growing sense of the significance of the individual emerged in the work of Arab poets This was reinforced by the poetry of the Mahjar (migrant) school which consisted of poets who migrated to the Americas The most influential, of these was Gibran Khalil Gibran (1883-1931) who founded a literary – A Secret Sky society, Al-Rabitah Al Qalamiyah (The Pen Club) in New York in 1920 After World War II, encounter with western poets, especially T.S Eliot, had a profound effect on Arabic poetry, both technically, with greater freedom in form and metre and also in content Poets began to express feelings of loss and even despair as they observed how the West, by championing the tyranny of money, creates an inner wasteland These feelings were compounded by the gradual erosion of traditional values in the Arab world Many Lebanese poets, including Said Aql and Salah Labaki, influenced by the French symbolists, found freedom by turning inwards for expression, often using private (some times incomprehensible) symbols Lebanese poet Yusaf al-Khal, returned home after seven years in the United States, to found Majallat Shi’r (Poetry Review) in Beirut in 1957 This became the most influential forum for innovative poetry Poets published in this journal continued to use symbols; many also experimented with avantgarde forms by blending classical techniques with dada, surrealist forms and existentialist ideas This journal encouraged the concept of poetry as a unique expression of personal vision by publishing the radically innovative work of Arab poets, as well as the work of Yeats, – A Secret Sky Ezra Pound, Robert Frost, Edith Sitwell, T.S Eliot and French poets such as Mallarme, Jaques Prevert and Paul Eluard, who continued to influence change The extraordinary richness of the Arabic language provides a medium for developing unlimited innovation and flexibility of form while maintaining a unique poignancy and vividness of imagery; poets can choose from an immense vocabulary for metaphors, allusions and symbols, to give precisely the nuance of meaning required, often so elusive in other languages Wadih Sa’adeh’s poetry conveys the essence of Lebanon’s tragic wars Each poem is as fresh as a water-colour, as though the poet is creating, with a soft brush, images of a half real world, each line a painful wound, each word a splash of blood The poet’s agony is made more intense by his gentleness of expression The history of the development of poetry in Lebanon has helped to shape Wadih’s work, but I believe his poems demonstrate a unique vision drawn from the simplicity and the spiritual harmony he enjoyed in his village and surrounding fields during his childhood, an innocent vision he holds in his heart to this day In his poetry this vision is poignantly juxtaposed with his painful memories of Lebanon’s brutal wars and the suffering of his fellow Lebanese Anne Fairbairn – A Secret Sky Preface I was born in a peaceful village called Shabtin, in northern Lebanon It was a place were the people, fields, trees, rocks, birds and animals were one family Nature was part of our being The soil and the people were one I grew up among farmers who were gentle and dour I grew up among opposites – the sterility of rocks, the fertility of fields The fields and rocks sometimes seemed to me to be the secret faces of the people I lived among in that village I was about twelve years old when I moved to Beirut Everything was different, and I was filled with a profound feeling of desolation It was at this time I began to experiment with poetry, perhaps to escape from this feeling Whatever the reason, poetry became my companion Does this mean that through poetry one is seeking once more a bond with nature? Lost innocence? Freedom? After travelling to many countries – England, France, Cyprus, Greece, searching for my place in this world, I emigrated to Australia with my family in November, 1988 The war in Lebanon was not the only reason for this We were seeking social justice, a regard for human rights and freedom Even so, that lost place remains firmly in my heart, for it is the place of my childhood I know it is a paradise to which I can never return When I write poetry, it is to keep this paradise alive in my mind Poetry is not just an expression of the past, – A Secret Sky it is an act of creation, a dream of renewal, the only way for me to recreate myself as I would wish to be In A Secret Sky, I try to give life to those people who have died in a terrible war in Lebanon, or those people who were forced to leave a country which is now only a memory, a people and a place which no longer exist for me In my book I try to give readers a glimpse of the tragedy of my former homeland Places like my village not exist separately from those who lived there; they are a part of our very being, part of ourselves Wherever I live today, my friends from the past – the fields, the hills, the rocks, the birds, the animals – are all part of me, part of my soul Wadih Sa'adeh – A Secret Sky Shadows They glided down towards the sea, drifting from their mountains like soft shadows, in case they woke the grass Passing over fields, some shadows whispered farewell and slept; others clung to rocks and stretched, dragging the people back As they moved, exhausted, towards the sea, the sun above them was searching for a needle to stitch them once more, to their shadows 10 – A Secret Sky Drowning He raised his hand as though he wanted to speak 34 – A Secret Sky With Them Leaving behind in the square dew from their villages, they disappeared beyond the mountain They left lettuce leaves, drops of oil, hens’ feathers and the slow breathing of their own shadows They carried produce from beyond the mountains, dumping them on the asphalt to sell They returned home and the feathers they had left there flew away to join them 35 – A Secret Sky The Place of Roses At dusk we arrived and carried our belongings to a door near the front of the house In front of the memory of stone and water We carried our belongings where we could smell the place of roses, then we dropped off to sleep 36 – A Secret Sky My Mother She poured the last drops of water from her bucket on the basil She slept close by The moon went down and the sun rose She still slept Those who used to hear her voice every morning and drink coffee with her, missed hearing her voice They called her name from their balconies and gardens They missed hearing her voice When they came to find her, they watched a drop of water fall slowly from her hand on to the basil 37 – A Secret Sky My Father Before his face became like a forest, he had cared for thousands of trees He seemed like the paths he would gaze upon when perched on his ladder He seemed like the rocks of his house which appeared to be leaning He was gentle and meek like the grass He was like the migrating hawks He said nothing before his face became like a forest Some trees turned white like snow thawing on the mountain Some trees spread their roots and bushes emerged from his soil 38 – A Secret Sky Destination The clothes-line followed us towards the sea with our washing still hanging on it Our friends were dying between the fig trees Dying between thresholds, doors or beneath shelves We walked, leaving behind on the clothes-line, some washing On the walls were chunks of our flesh When we stepped into the sea, fish-scales appeared on our bodies Some of us stuck to rocks and turned into shells 39 – A Secret Sky The Exhausted People The exhausted people were sitting in the square listening to the soft winds which may have been peddlers or loiterers who had lost their way The exhausted people had their own open square where the paving stones had taken on human qualities; if one of the people were missing, they cried out for him The exhausted people were in the open square and their faces grew more brittle each day, their hair, softer in the evening’s faint light When they glanced at one another, their eyes were brittle until they thought of themselves as glass and shattered 40 – A Secret Sky Migration When they left they did not lock their doors; they left water in the basin for the nightingale and the stray dog that used to visit them On the dining table, they left bread, a pitcher of water and a tin of sardines They said nothing before they left, but their silence was like a covenant with the door, the pitcher and the bread on the table The road, the only thing to feel their footsteps, could not see them afterwards, however it did eventually But one day it became numbed by the wheat carried along it from dawn till dusk and from doors it had seen leaving their place in the walls The sea recalled that some sardines had flopped into it, swimming on to unknown places Those who remained in the village said that a stray dog would come each evening and howl in front of their house 41 – A Secret Sky Walking Away We didn’t disturb the drowsy winds, we just walked away accompanied by the salty dawn and the howling of dogs We had left untouched islands there, angels’ coal in the vaults, God’s broken trunks and a bereaved eternity Oil spots on our clothes, walked with us, and the fat of dreams Some of us carried in our hearts, broken carts, and dead livestock The howling of the dogs stayed with us until we disappeared Under our feet, on the road, we heard a strange moaning Hi, you! I have already arrived like an unusual, exotic fruit Give me a cigarette I have amazing tales to tell about kings, battles and urns; about people found by chance by the wind, and souls of fish on the sands These are tales only for you 42 – A Secret Sky Give me a cigarette I carry with me many hills I want to sell, hills overlooking oceans where whales are dancing around those who have drowned; overlooking bays were resorts could be built for other enchanted lives Hills, hills, pay whatever you like and take everything We didn’t awaken those who were sleeping nor did we utter a word We only heard the last words of the doors which were squeaking as we walked in or out We left pictures on the walls, a scent of olives in the corner, loads of tales spread out on tobacco racks and your head, oh Riyadh, aflame with falling stars We arrive incomplete on crutches, in the streets Wherever we go we leave a part of us behind Our eyes and feet remain there 43 – A Secret Sky Thus, when we walk, the roads will not feel us If it rains, eyes will shed tears somewhere else Give me a cigarette From the smoke, God will appear with wealth, heaven, and splendour Shawki is my friend but he will soon become a railway track Before this happens I would like to smoke a cigarette with him All Sydney’s lines pass through his head in Sydenham, and he is about to burst out – ‘give me a cigarette.’ Khodr, who threw away his gun in the mountains, has become like a letter with no address He could be posted from one post office to another but never reach his destination Out of smoke, the road appears and houses with their owners Out of smoke’, God is born Give me a cigarette When I return, I’ll send you loads of tobacco from our spreading racks, and baskets of fruit and eggs from hens we have fattened from the grains of our dreams; they lay wealth, which I’ll send you 44 – A Secret Sky One day we invented veins for silence, we would walk ahead, threading them into the path We walked in the harsh air, buckling the road and we could see breasts trembling We could see beneath the bridge, the offal from living creatures and chunks of eyes search for their vision Listen ! We have seen life shivering beneath a tree and we took off our shirts to cover it We walked on with bare chests and the air as our companion, bringing us flowers and playing with our hair It brought us a stare lost by somebody while watching daylight fade With us – bracelets With us – streets With us – shadows With us – air and reeds In our bags is the rustle of photographs, the bandages of longing and the sound of crutches stumping from mountain to mountain We walked on In front of our door there was leaf from an almond tree 45 – A Secret Sky We looked at it but kept on walking Anise, his eyes like two clouds over a grove of orange trees, the veins of his fingers like dry pencils, with grains of dreams being pecked from his lips by a bird Ghassan played his lute all the way until the streets became its notes We have nothing except the smell of tobacco and olives that we’d carried with us We walked ahead lightly so we didn’t disturb the dew We didn’t bend a branch nor waken the breeze We didn’t say goodbye to our friend, we didn’t utter a word, we simply walked on 46 – A Secret Sky This book was distributed courtesy of: For your own Unlimited Reading and FREE eBooks today, visit: http://www.Free-eBooks.net Share this eBook with anyone and everyone automatically by selecting any of the options below: To show your appreciation to the author and help others have wonderful reading experiences and find helpful information too, we'd be very grateful if you'd kindly post your comments for this book here COPYRIGHT INFORMATION Free-eBooks.net respects the intellectual property of others When a book's copyright owner submits their work to Free-eBooks.net, they are granting us permission to distribute such material Unless otherwise stated in this book, this permission is not passed onto others As such, redistributing this book without the copyright owner's permission can constitute copyright infringement If you believe that your work has been used in a manner that constitutes copyright infringement, please follow our Notice and Procedure for Making Claims of Copyright Infringement as seen in our Terms of Service here: http://www.free-ebooks.net/tos.html ... Hussam Al Khatibe, Palestinian Professor of Arabic Studies at the university of Damascus He told me that Arabs are passionate about their language and are by nature poets He explained that although...Wadih Saadeh A Secret Sky 1992 Translated from Arabic by Anne Fairbairn Ginninderra Press – A Secret Sky Contents Introduction 5 That Day 26 Preface 8 Companions 27 Shadows 10 He Said 28 Glances 11... adequately how they feel about the immense changes taking place around them He recited poems by Syrian poets Nizzar Qabbani and Adonis (Ali Ahmad Sa’id), Iraqi poet Nazik al-Mala’ika, Palestinian