A little poem for Mahmoud

Mahmoud Darwish

I didn't know your poetry
But I grieve for you,
The peasant boy who sang
Of the unattained Palestine
Which was your love.
You scattered poems
Of flowers and ancestry
Ranging from Andalus to Baghdad.
Galilee bred you.
You found words for Beirut
And the Intifada.
Your private words were of
The beauty of Nature
Which you shared with
All the Arab World.
You were my age.
To live a lifetime of torture
And never stop singing of love
Is to be a poet.
Mahmoud I salute you.

            16 August 2008

Douglas Clark /Poems08/ Benjamin Press, 69 Hillcrest Drive, Bath BA2 1HD, UK/ d.g.d.clark@dgdclynx.plus.com