#mourid

[kitchen-light]

Mourid Barghouti, " It's Also Fine"

[jacobwren]

"Politics is the number of coffee cups on the table, the sudden presence of what you have forgotten, the memories you are afraid to look at too closely, though you look anyway. Staying away from politics is also politics. Politics is nothing and it is everything." - Mourid Barghouti

[edwordsmyth]

[benoylesinebirii]

"Temiz bir ölümle ölmek iyidir..."🇵🇸🇵🇸

[houseofpurplestars]

Poem: It's Also Fine by Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti

It’s also fine to die in our beds

on a clean pillow

and among our friends.

It’s fine to die, once,

our hands crossed on our chests,

empty and pale,

with no scratches, no chains, no banners,

and no petitions.

It’s fine to have a clean death,

with no holes in our shirts,

and no evidence in our ribs.

It’s fine to die

with a white pillow, not the pavement, under our cheek,

with our hands resting in those of our loved ones,

surrounded by desperate doctors and nurses,

with nothing left but a graceful farewell,

paying no attention to history,

leaving this world as it is,

hoping that, someday, someone else

will change it.

[roselungs]

— Mourid Barghouti

seen on @palestinianpoetry on instagram

[ukdamo]

The Three Cypress Trees

Mourid Barghouti - Palestinian poet (in exile)

Transparent and frail, like the slumber of woodcutters, serene, foreshadowing things to come, the morning drizzle does not conceal these three cypresses on the slope. Their details belie their sameness, their radiance confirms it. I said: I wouldn’t dare to keep looking at them, there is a beauty that takes away our daring, there are times when courage fades away. The clouds rolling high above change the form of the cypresses. The birds flying towards other skies change the resonance of the cypresses. The tiled line behind them fixes the greenness of the cypresses and there are trees whose only fruit is greenness. Yesterday, in my sudden cheerfulness, I saw their immortality. Today, in my sudden sorrow, I saw the axe.

[violentdevotion]

I Saw Ramallah - Mourid Barghouti

[stuffbin]

Mourid Barghouti, I Saw Ramallah p100

[erikaferestin]

And now for the blatantly obvious truth. I know and you know this is true, that Islam is about subjugating the world, they even say so openly, but we all pretend that it isn’t true because being a good leftist, or what Stalin called a “useful idiot”, requires us all to keep taking one for the team until we get killed off. That’s our role as leftists just like the leftist in Iran were killed off as soon as the theocrats had power. I am safe in my $30M house in Pacific Palisades but not you low-landers, you proletariat! Take heed!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Susan Collins LA (@susancollinsla)

[roughghosts]

“I do not live in a place. I live in a time.” I Saw Ramallah by Mourid Barghouti

When his name is finally called after waiting for hours, he grabs his small bag and steps on to the Allenby Bridge to cross, for “the first time in thirty summers,” from Jordan to the West Bank: Is this a political moment? Or an emotional one? Or social? A practical moment? A surreal one? A moment of the body? Or of the mind? The wood creaks. What has passed of life is shrouded in a mist that…

[sheltiechicago]

Dakar, Senegal

A Muslim worshipper belonging to the Mouride Brotherhood walks towards the sea during the ‘prayer performed at sea’ ceremony. Followers gathered for a ceremony celebrating the prayer that the founder of the brotherhood, Cheikh Amadou Bamba, performed at sea when exiled to Gabon by the French

Photograph: John Wessels/AFP/Getty Images

[ferraguss]

beyaz bir yastıkta, ellerimiz sevdiklerimizin elleri arasında, çaresiz doktorlar ve hemşireler etrafımızda, arkamızda zarif bir vedadan başka hiçbir şey bırakmadan, tarihe aldırmadan, dünyayı öylece bırakarak, bir gün bir başkası onu değiştirir diye umarak ölmek iyidir.

[scatteredprayerbeads]

From "A Small Eternity" by Mourid Bargouthi (1944–2021)

Here I am banishing longing from my language. Longing, the confession that breaks place in two, the body in two, the self in two. The riverbank is the river. Without it, we don’t call it a river. The mountains become mountains only with their valleys. And the flowers, don’t they need stems to bloom? Doesn’t a hilt need a sword to live? Who can separate the bird from the possibilities of wings, and the waves from the sea? Who now can separate ship from water? Who says spring is the absence of summer? Who separates clouds from shades of white? There’s no halo in the sky without a moon at its heart.

[laviesenegalaise]

Macky Sall présente ses condoléances au Khalife des mourides