Friday, April 29, 2011

Carmen, love is a bohemian child

When will I love you?
My word! I don’t have a clue
Perhaps never…
Perhaps tomorrow
But now is not the time
That is certain


Love is a rebellious bird
That nothing-no one
Ever could tame
And it’s in vain
That we call for it
If it suits it to refuse
Nothing will do
Threats or prayer
One speaks well,
The other is mute
And it is the other I prefer
He says naught
Yet he pleases me most!


Love is a bohemian child
That never knows any rule or law
If you love me not
I’ll love you
And if I love you…
stay alert! Watch out!



That bird you thought
You could surprise
Flutters its wings
And flies away
Love is far – you can wait
The wait is over – here it is!
All around you
Hurry! Hurry!
It comes
It goes
And it comes back
When You think you caught it
It escapes
But try to escape
And it catches you


Love is a bohemian child
That never knows any rule or law
If you love me not
I’ll love you
And if I love you…
stay alert! Watch out!



translated by Comte Almaviva

Monday, April 25, 2011

كتبت من الخيال

كتبت من الخيال

قبل الإحتفال

فصارت خليلة الروح

وصارت معنى لسؤال

لا معنى له

إلا في قلب ذلك  الذي لا يحيا

سوى بين جلدتي كتاب

والقلم لا يعرف إلا  السراب


من هي؟

ذات العيون الصافية

والصوت العذب كطير الجنان ؟

أهي شهرزاد أم إيزيس؟

تلك التي وجدت منذ الأزل

منذ قبل ما قبل فجر الخليقة

فبقيت في ثنايا الروح خافية

إلى أن أخرجها إلى النور وحي قلمك

 فصرت تراها  في عيني كل إمرأة

فتغدو في  كل إمرأة صفة الكمال

إلى أن تدرك أن لها حقيقة

غير  التي في مرآة نفسك

فتلك صنيعة الأحلام

أما هذي فتخاطب فيك الإنسان

وقدر الكاتب قدران

له نصف  قلبٌ كقلوب البشر

ينشد تلك السعادة الفانية

وله نصف  قلبٌ يتقن فن الهروب

ولا يهرب إلا في  دروب الأوهام


وما كان للقلم أن يحيا

دون أن تتصارع في الروح

تلك الأمواج العاتية!




Sunday, April 24, 2011

Pygmalion and Galatea, a lyrical poem (all 5 scenes)

Scene 1: Pygmalion, in the middle of the night, reaches the altar of Venus in her temple, and throws himself in front of her statue

Pygmalion :


Tonight I pray to thee Venus

Forgive this sorrowful heart

Who knew no one but Appolo

The giver of reason and of Art

And  of ambitions ever unbound

who  set my spirit on fire

to rise above this finite land

to seek over Mount Olympus

what is beyond the Genius

of both man and immortal god.

And I  set within the marble stone

The music of Appolo’s  lyre

day after day, with this mortal hand

I soared above what  gods aspire

Galatea, the name I carved in words

Unadorned she was, unequal was pure gold

She was my victory, over all you gods

For no god ever made perfect man

Yet that night, perfection was mine to hold !

But where Genius rose ever higher

The void left was filled with desire,

One lonely night not before too long

I sang to her, she offer’d back no song

And where whisper’d tales with tears I told

Her eyes were idle, her palms were cold

Tonight I pray to thee Venus !

Take back all the Genius of my soul

Take back Appolo’s poisoned chalice

Of gods, I no longer wish the role

Breath in her the gift of love and life

That I may find by her, warmth in night

That I  may know how mortal fates unite

Make imperfect this - my perfection

Take  Galatea, my miracle of creation

Give me Galatea the human, the wife !



Scene 2 : Dialogue of Venus and Appolo, in front of a magic fountain showing both Venus’s temple and Galatea in Pygmalion’s cottage



Venus


Witness my victory god of Art

god of Genius, music and Mind

Your proudest creation has a heart

His vows to Appolo, this night unsigned

How unwise, brother, to think a man

May rise to take the role of  god

When we spelled the frailties of mankind

Between heart and reason their choice was made:

Without reason, man may live his life

Yet not a day – by Cupid- from love apart

Appolo :

Our powers are vast but minds finite

While  limitless is man’s imagination

gods create the man, who works the night

to rise above us in his own creation

Galatea her name –lifeless she stands

Yet holds  Pygmalion’s genius and soul

He did not pray Venus, yet still knew love

For Is Galatea the work of  just the hands,

When each night watered with the artist’s tears?

I ask you sister, not to hear his cries

For if you breath into her a mortal life

Happiness he may know, but for a day

If tonight he calls her his love, his wife

Tomorrow she’ll be  a Memory of

your crime against labour and  perfection

Begrudge him not  the sorrows of his heart

Such is his fate to seek his happiness

In making the immortal, from a mortal mind

Do not destroy the miracle of his Art

In the name of the  lonely winter’s tears


For if Galatea is the artist’s lasting miracle,

we the gods made the human’s fears

Venus :

I do not live to do favours for man

Be he a genius or a petty thief

But  prayers of love I cannot deny

should they bring joy, misery or grief

You see in  Galatea your victory

When the artist rose over Olympus high?

Yet Pygmalion shall be my triumph

In her love he’ll find eternal belief !

(She raises her hands)

Cupid ! Prepare your quiver for the game

Tonight thine arrows shall cover the sky !


Scene 3  Galatea, kneeling by the sleeping  Pygmalion in their cottage


Galatea

What is the secret of existence

But a divine gift that was twice received ?

Once, the genius of Art gave instance

Thence, from gods’ breath the  spirit conceived ?

Pygmalion, husband, creator,  friend, and  love

Is it a glimpse of sorrow on your face ?

My life span is a  year, spent by your side

Wherein you showered me with kisses each dawn

Yet tonight, of your  love, I see no trace

 Tonight, I see the veil  that masks a fear

but I shall ask  not for the truth unveiled

Let not the eyes search for false happiness

That was not meant for a human to find

Swear an eternal love  as you did the day

you forewent Reason in the will to pray

When with a breath of Venus I came to life

Know that if Galatea once was the work of the mind

None  but the name  remains in your wife

Ageless  stone may tell of miracles, but will not love

Yet our mortal hearts are forever entwined




Scene 4: Pygmalion, walking alone under a moonlit night



Pygmalion:

One night  I thought my genius rose

Above the fates of gods and their creation

For once the spirit denied the mortal laws

No god deterred a limitless    imagination

Galatea was the child of my mind

Years I worked in the stillness of the night

When  man and beast close their idle eyes

And lived without both man’s truth and lies

While I labored for an image of perfection

She was both companion to the mind and heart

With  with the spirit content, with the labor done

I declared that over you gods I’d won

For there she stood, of my victory the annunciation

Yet when minds grow weary, the heart takes the stage

Hitherto freedom was a limitless quest

Yet now it was a human desire

I denied Appolo, and cursed my fate:

That while my spirit may roam far above

I shall be creator of beauty, yet know not love

And with a heart full of sorrow and of rage

I prayed Venus, to make human out of divine

An earthly love out of a perfect design

Thence for a year I saw happiness in Galatea

And embraced the bars of this blissful cage

But while Galatea received the gift of life

She no longer was the creature of my dream

Day after day, my gift to her the more withdrawn

conquered by a  god’s curse: that she may know time

She could not show love when of marble stone

Yet she was my gift to a never-ending future

That ever lives in hope of a new dawn

Venus! My Galatea was eternal

But yours shall know that hourglass we call age

The Artist creates beyond the laws of time

But when gods conspire with the human inside

Everlasting Art,  ever the victim of their crime!

Venus! No love is true with the spirit tied

Take back that which is a cruel imitation

Take back what you gave in the name of heart

Give back the product of Mind’s creation

 Give back my gift to a distant generation

Return to me the genius of my Art!






(Scene 5, Appolo and Venus, looking at Pygmalion through his window)


Appolo


Your victory was but an illusion

And soon all is what it was meant to be

Needless was the divine intrusion

Unworthy was Venus’s inclusion

Of what Pygmalion’s heart was not  to see
`
Give him back that Galatea of yore

Not the creature of heart but of his dreams

Although at your altar he might implore

His bliss is the mystery of lifeless stone

That carries mortal thoughts to an immortal shore


Venus:

He will get back his unmoving creation

Today, he renounced both Venus and love

What I gave him was the true liberation

From bondage of a never-ending quest
 
Of a mind ever weary and a heart oppressed

 Your gift to him shall be his eternal curse

If today Reason triumphed over his heart

Think not that his first bliss he is to find

For if you give the blind one moment of sight

Will he ever be happy when back in the dark?

I shall take from Galatea life’s spark

Yet in his heart I shall keep that seed of love

That whenever his spirit rises far above

And while he swears to live from love apart

His gaze shall always be that of mortal man

He may create a perfect image from perfect stone

Yet shall know the memory of dispossession

His eyes forever searching for what he lost

Through a cruel prayer in a cruel night

If my work ruined the genius of his Art

Giving her a soul that knows the laws of time

His work too shall carry the recall of a crime

In a woman’s memory he shall live his days

That, Appolo, shall be your curse and my revenge

Until that eternal cycle is complete

The day  Pygmalion kneels at my altar and prays!



By Comte Almaviva 

Pygmalion and Galatea, a lyrical poem - Scene 5 (final scene)

(Scene 5, Appolo and Venus, looking at Pygmalion through his window)


Appolo


Your victory was but an illusion

And soon all is what it was meant to be

Needless was the divine intrusion

Unworthy was Venus’s inclusion

Of what Pygmalion’s heart was not  to see
`
Give him back that Galatea of yore

Not the creature of heart but of his dreams

Although at your altar he might implore

His bliss is the mystery of lifeless stone

That carries mortal thoughts to an immortal shore


Venus:

He will get back his unmoving creation

Today, he renounced both Venus and love

What I gave him was the true liberation

From bondage of a never-ending quest
 
Of a mind ever weary and a heart oppressed

 Your gift to him shall be his eternal curse

If today Reason triumphed over his heart

Think not that his first bliss he is to find

For if you give the blind one moment of sight

Will he ever be happy when back in the dark?

I shall take from Galatea life’s spark

Yet in his heart I shall keep that seed of love

That whenever his spirit rises far above

And while he swears to live from love apart

His gaze shall always be that of mortal man

He may create a perfect image from perfect stone

Yet shall know the memory of dispossession

His eyes forever searching for what he lost

Through a cruel prayer in a cruel night

If my work ruined the genius of his Art

Giving her a soul that knows the laws of time

His work too shall carry the recall of a crime

In a woman’s memory he shall live his days

That, Appolo, shall be your curse and my revenge

Until that eternal cycle is complete

The day  Pygmalion kneels at my altar and prays!

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Pygmalion a lyrical poem - Scene 4

Scene 4: Pygmalion, walking alone under a moonlit night

Pygmalion:

One night  I thought my genius rose

Above the fates of gods and their creation

For once the spirit denied the mortal laws

No god deterred a limitless    imagination

Galatea was the child of my mind

Years I worked in the stillness of the night

When  man and beast close their idle eyes

And lived without both man’s truth and lies

While I labored for an image of perfection

She was both companion to the mind and heart

With  with the spirit content, with the labor done

I declared that over you gods I’d won

For there she stood, of my victory the annunciation

Yet when minds grow weary, the heart takes the stage

Hitherto freedom was a limitless quest

Yet now it was a human desire

I denied Appolo, and cursed my fate:

That while my spirit may roam far above

I shall be creator of beauty, yet know not love

And with a heart full of sorrow and of rage

I prayed Venus, to make human out of divine

An earthly love out of a perfect design

Thence for a year I saw happiness in Galatea

And embraced the bars of this blissful cage

But while Galatea received the gift of life

She no longer was the creature of my dream

Day after day, my gift to her the more withdrawn

conquered by a  god’s curse: that she may know time

She could not show love when of marble stone

Yet she was my gift to a never-ending future

That ever lives in hope of a new dawn

Venus! My Galatea was eternal

But yours shall know that hourglass we call age

The Artist creates beyond the laws of time

But when gods conspire with the human inside

Everlasting Art,  ever the victim of their crime!

Venus! No love is true with the spirit tied

Take back that which is a cruel imitation

Take back what you gave in the name of heart

Give back the product of Mind’s creation

 Give back my gift to a distant generation

Return to me the genius of my Art!



 By Comte Almaviva

Monday, April 18, 2011

Pygmalion a lyrical poem - Scene 3

Scene 3  Galatea, kneeling by the sleeping  Pygmalion in their cottage

Galatea

What is the secret of existence

But a divine gift that was twice received ?

Once, the genius of Art gave instance

Thence, from gods’ breath the  spirit conceived ?

Pygmalion, husband, creator,  friend, and  love

Is it a glimpse of sorrow on your face ?

My life span is a  year, spent by your side

Wherein you showered me with kisses each dawn

Yet tonight, of your  love, I see no trace

 Tonight, I see the veil  that masks a fear

but I shall ask  not for the truth unveiled

Let not the eyes search for false happiness

That was not meant for a human to find

Swear an eternal love  as you did the day

you forewent Reason in the will to pray

When with a breath of Venus I came to life

Know that if Galatea once was the work of the mind

None  but the name  remains in your wife

Ageless  stone may tell of miracles, but will not love

Yet our mortal hearts are forever entwined

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Fadwa Touqan - liberty of a people

Liberty of a People - Fadwa Touqan 

My Liberty!
My Liberty!
My Liberty!

A cry I repeat
With anger’s very mouth
Under the bullets
Within the circle of fire
Inspite of my shackles
I run behind her
Inspite of the darkness
I follow her steps
And I remain
Carried on the tide of anger
Fighting, crying, “My Liberty!”
My Liberty!
My Liberty!
The sacred river
And the bridges
Echo my words
My Liberty!

And the two banks
Echo my words
My Liberty!
The pathways of the angry wind
Thunder, rain and hurricanes
In my homeland
Echo my words
My Liberty!
My Liberty! My Liberty! My Liberty!

Resisting, I shall engrave her name
In the earth
In the walls
In the doors
On the balconies
On the altar of the Virgin Mary
In the Mosques
In the farm roads
On every hill top and every slope
Every corner and every street
Every prison every torture chamber
On the wood of the gallows
Against all the chains
Against the destruction of the homes
Against the flames and fires
I shall engrave her name
Until I see it spread
in my homeland
Growing,
Growing
And Growing
Until it covers every inch of the land
Until the red freedom opens every door
The night escapes,
The light knocks down
The foundation of the fog
My Liberty!
My Liberty!
The sacred river
And the bridges
Echo my words
My Liberty!

And the two banks
Echo my words
My Liberty!
The pathways of the angry wind
Thunder, rain and hurricanes
In my homeland
Echo my words
My Liberty!
My Liberty! My Liberty! My Liberty!


Translated by Comte Almaviva

Pygmalion a lyrical poem - Scenes 1 and 2

This will be my attempt at writing a quasi-lyric poem about the legend of Pygmalion and Galatea, the theme being the eternal struggle of the mind, the logic that aspires towards perfection and the heart, which does not hold perfection as a condition for love. I have not fully respected the meters of English poetry and the rhyme is not rigid, but I kept it loosely there so that it sounds more musical without constraining the meaning to the form. below are scenes 1 and 2.  I will add the other scenes in future posts.

As a clarification, this poem is based on Tawfiq al Hakim's symbolic theater play. 
 


Scene 1: Pygmalion, in the middle of the night, reaches the altar of Venus in her temple, and throws himself in front of her statue

Pygmalion :


Tonight I pray to thee Venus

Forgive this sorrowful heart

Who knew no one but Appolo

The giver of reason and of Art

And  of ambitions ever unbound

who  set my spirit on fire

to rise above this finite land

to seek over Mount Olympus

what is beyond the Genius

of both man and immortal god.

And I  set within the marble stone

The music of Appolo’s  lyre

day after day, with this mortal hand

I soared above what  gods aspire

Galatea, the name I carved in words

Unadorned she was, unequal was pure gold

She was my victory, over all you gods

For no god ever made perfect man

Yet that night, perfection was mine to hold !

But where Genius rose ever higher

The void left was filled with desire,

One lonely night not before too long

I sang to her, she offer’d back no song

And where whisper’d tales with tears I told

Her eyes were idle, her palms were cold

Tonight I pray to thee Venus !

Take back all the Genius of my soul

Take back Appolo’s poisoned chalice

Of gods, I no longer wish the role

Breath in her the gift of love and life

That I may find by her, warmth in night

That I  may know how mortal fates unite

Make imperfect this - my perfection

Take  Galatea, my miracle of creation

Give me Galatea the human, the wife !



Scene 2 : Dialogue of Venus and Appolo, in front of a magic fountain showing both Venus’s temple and Galatea in Pygmalion’s cottage



Venus


Witness my victory god of Art

god of Genius, music and Mind

Your proudest creation has a heart

His vows to Appolo, this night unsigned

How unwise, brother, to think a man

May rise to take the role of  god

When we spelled the frailties of mankind

Between heart and reason their choice was made:

Without reason, man may live his life

Yet not a day – by Cupid- from love apart

Appolo :

Our powers are vast but minds finite

While  limitless is man’s imagination

gods create the man, who works the night

to rise above us in his own creation

Galatea her name –lifeless she stands

Yet holds  Pygmalion’s genius and soul

He did not pray Venus, yet still knew love

For Is Galatea the work of  just the hands,

When each night watered with the artist’s tears?

I ask you sister, not to hear his cries

For if you breath into her a mortal life

Happiness he may know, but for a day

If tonight he calls her his love, his wife

Tomorrow she’ll be  a Memory of

your crime against labour and  perfection

Begrudge him not  the sorrows of his heart

Such is his fate to seek his happiness

In making the immortal, from a mortal mind

Do not destroy the miracle of his Art

In the name of the  lonely winter’s tears


For if Galatea is the artist’s lasting miracle,

we the gods made the human’s fears

Venus :

I do not live to do favours for man

Be he a genius or a petty thief

But  prayers of love I cannot deny

should they bring joy, misery or grief

You see in  Galatea your victory

When the artist rose over Olympus high?

Yet Pygmalion shall be my triumph

In her love he’ll find eternal belief !

(She raises her hands)

Cupid ! Prepare your quiver for the game

Tonight thine arrows shall cover the sky !

Friday, April 15, 2011

Pygmalion a lyrical poem - Scene 2

Scene 2 : Dialogue of Venus and Appolo, in front of a magic fountain showing both Venus’s temple and Galatea in Pygmalion’s cottage





Venus


Witness my victory god of Art

god of Genius, music and Mind

Your proudest creation has a heart

His vows to Appolo, this night unsigned

How unwise, brother, to think a man

May rise to take the role of  god

When we spelled the frailties of mankind

Between heart and reason their choice was made:

Without reason, man may live his life

Yet not a day – by Cupid- from love apart

Appolo :

Our powers are vast but minds finite

While  limitless is man’s imagination

gods create the man, who works the night

to rise above us in his own creation

Galatea her name –lifeless she stands

Yet holds  Pygmalion’s genius and soul

He did not pray Venus, yet still knew love

For Is Galatea the work of  just the hands,

When each night watered with the artist’s tears?

I ask you sister, not to hear his cries

For if you breath into her a mortal life

Happiness he may know, but for a day

If tonight he calls her his love, his wife

Tomorrow she’ll be  a Memory of

your crime against labour and  perfection

Begrudge him not  the sorrows of his heart

Such is his fate to seek his happiness

In making the immortal, from a mortal mind

Do not destroy the miracle of his Art

In the name of the  lonely winter’s tears


For if Galatea is the artist’s lasting miracle,

we the gods made the human’s fears

Venus :

I do not live to do favours for man

Be he a genius or a petty thief

But  prayers of love I cannot deny

should they bring joy, misery or grief

You see in  Galatea your victory

When the artist rose over Olympus high?

Yet Pygmalion shall be my triumph

In her love he’ll find eternal belief !

(She raises her hands)

Cupid ! Prepare your quiver for the game

Tonight thine arrows shall cover the sky !



By Comte Almaviva




Thursday, April 14, 2011

To that woman resisting oppression

Her pain is  sundered from speech
She lives  a  modern tragedy
But where hope seems out of reach
In her pure heart is  the remedy

In shadows  of their twisted mind
How fore’er they pushed her to hate !
They dug – but naught were they to find
for love – her heart’s  one only state !

Justice no longer is  a distant dream
When cries  echoe in nightingale’s wings
When sighs glide  in the waters of a stream
When through her voice, an angel sings

And  tyrants know their end is nigh
Lack of Mercy :  a sign of the weak
Those oppressed, with spirits held high
Will live – and e’er higher they shall seek

Her heart is split in two, yet both are strong
One half resists,  the other shall  pray
But soon they meet, and  their  hopeful song
Shall end the night and bring the light of day

By Comte Almaviva

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Pygmalion and Galatea, a lyrical poem - Scene 1

This will be my attempt at writing a quasi-lyric poem about the legend of Pygmalion and Galatea, the theme being the eternal struggle of the mind, the logic that aspires towards perfection and the heart, which does not hold perfection as a condition for love. I have not fully respected the meters of English poetry and the rhyme is not rigid, but I kept it loosely there so that it sounds more musical without constraining the meaning to the form. This is scene one and I will add the other scenes in future posts.

Scene one : Pygmalion at the altar of Venus, the middle of the night.

 Pygmalion :


Tonight I pray to thee Venus

Forgive this sorrowful heart

Who knew no one but Appolo

The giver of reason and of Art

And  of ambitions ever unbound

who  set my spirit on fire

to rise above this finite land

to seek over Mount Olympus

what is beyond the Genius

of both man and immortal god.

And I  set within the marble stone

The music of Appolo’s  lyre

day after day, with this mortal hand

I soared above what  gods aspire

Galatea, the name I carved in words

Unadorned she was, unequal was pure gold

She was my victory, over all you gods

For no god ever made perfect man

Yet that night, perfection was mine to hold !

But where Genius rose ever higher

The void left was filled with desire,

One lonely night not before too long

I sang to her, she offer’d back no song

And where whisper’d tales with tears I told

Her eyes were idle, her palms were cold

Tonight I pray to thee Venus !

Take back all the Genius of my soul

Take back Appolo’s poisoned chalice

Of gods, I no longer wish the role

Breath in her the gift of love and life

That I may find by her, warmth in night

That I  may know how mortal fates unite

Make imperfect this - my perfection

Take  Galatea, my miracle of creation

Give me Galatea the human, the wife !

Saturday, April 02, 2011

Re-post Atlas the bearer of the earth


Me:

“Atlas!
Atlas!

Why do you bear
The weight of the earth?
Let me be your heir
Let go of your bane
Your freedom go regain:
The laughter and the mirth!”

Atlas:

“Why do you want my load?
Can’t you see my plight?”

Me:

“My heart is heavy
With the sorrow of the world
Yet my hands are idle
Why should they not share
The burden of my heart?


Atlas:

“And what burdens you soul,
That you’d want my accursed role?”

Me:

“Every human lie
Every human sigh
Every child’s cry
Injustice in my land
The cruelty of the hand
That kills without shame
The loss of mercy
From all the hearts
The twilight of humanity’s flame”


Atlas:

“Be gone!
Be you early! Be you late
You’re not ready
To carry the weight

I don’t hear the cries
I don’t hear the sighs
I don’t hear the lies
As long as you can grieve
You can’t bear my weight
Least of all my fate
That broken hearts should come
Ask for my accursed load
Listen to my words
--Then Leave!

By Comte Almaviva

Of wisdom and of hearts

Wisdom   is  a hindrance
As heavy as moon and   earth
Denying your existence,
Both  laughter and its mirth!


A Mockery when per chance
But woe once true and  earned
its  learning defeats  the dance
The heart – forever unlearned


T’is but a sign of age
And Love can’t exist demure
For once one claims you’re sage
No temptress shall hold a lure!


Yet,  know She’ll come one day
In both her joy and lament:
Unwise wisdom, shall give way
To  a heart  fore’er content


By Comte Almaviva