بيع الجمل يا علي sell the camel, Ali : Samira Twfiq- The Gypsy from Jordan

قلبي افطر نصين
My heart was broken into two halves
هون وهون
here and here
وشلون يا ويلي اداري
and oh dear how can i  hide it?
 شلون؟
how?

لون الفرح يا ناس
The color of happiness , Oh people,
مادري بيه
I dont know it,
ولونك يا غربة
and your colors, daispora,
الف لون ولون
are one and a thousand colors

بيع الجمل يا علي
sell the camel, Ali
واشتري مهر الي
and buy my dowry
كرمي لوح واستوى
my vine is swaying and has ripened
والعنب طاب وحلي
and the grapes are good and sweet
بيع
sell
بيع
sell
بيع
sell
بيع
sell
بيع  الجمل يا علي
sell the camel, Ali

يا علي بيع الجمال
Ali, sell the camels
قبل مايضيع الجمال
before the beauty is lost
واهدي بويا ذهب ومال
and gift my father gold and money
واشتريني يا علي
and buy me , Ali

ياعلي بويا طميع
Oh, Ali, My dad is gready,
شو عندك يا حبيبي بيع
whatever you have my beloved, sell it,
لو تتأخر انا رح ضيع
if you are late I will be lost
لا تضيعني يا علي
dont lose me , Oh Ali ..


انا وانت بيكفينا
me and you will be satisfied
بيت زغير يدفينا
with a small home that warms us
ويطعمينا ويسقينا
and God of the heavens
رب السما يا علي
will feed us and provide for us

Jordanian Folklore - Oh my stubborn dad :) يا عنيد يا يابا

 They went down to the garden نزلن على البستان
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
and they died their hair with henna وحنن شعرهن
 

All girls are stars كل البنات نجوم
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
  and mom , she is their moon!  يمه وهية قمرهن

 (she is ) My eye and the water of my eye  عيني ومي عيني
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
She 's worth my family and all my relatives تسوى هلي وكل القرابا
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا


I will sit alone in the end of the night لاقعد بتالي الليل
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
And I swear I'll remember my lover والله واذكر وليفي

 And using the excuse that I had a bad dream وبحجة الحلمان
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
Oh mom , I can cry as much as I want to يمه لابكي عكيفي

 (she is ) My eye and the water of my eye  عيني ومي عيني
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا
She 's worth my family and all my relatives تسوى هلي وكل القرابا
 Oh my stubborn dad  يا عنيد يا يابا

An old man from the land of Miknas شويخ من ارض مكناس - خالد الشيخ

What do I owe my friend  ايش عليا يا صاحب
   to all creatures? من جميع الخلايق

   Do good and you'll be saved... افعل الخير تنجو
  And follow people of the truth... واتبع اهل الحقايق

 Dont say my son a word... لاتقل يا بني كلمة
Unless you are being honest... الا ان كنت صادق
 Take my words and in a paper... خذ كلامي في قرطاس
 write them as a treasure from me... واكتبه حرز عني
 what do I owe people... ويش عليا انا من الناس
and what do people owe me... ويش على الناس مني

a little old man from the land of Miknas شويخ من ارض مكناس
in the middle of the markets sings وسط الاسواق يغني
I dont owe people anything  ايش عليا انا من الناس
 and they owe me nothing at all    وايش على الناس مني

For you to be you and for me to be me

Allow me to feel my pain
Allow me to connect with it
don't dismiss me
give me room to breathe
I need to let it all out
it is poisoning my system
the years of oppression and neglect are getting to me
I need a safe place
give me your unconditional love so that I can give you mine
feel my pain so that I can feel yours
my pain is a big part of who i am
I dont want to feel embarrassed of my pain
I am allowed to feel it !

You say : move on, move on...
how can I?
I will I know - one day maybe, when I am safe
when i am heard

Marginalized - do you know how painful that is ?
feer hurts!
Exposed...
I want to be exposed to you
with all my pain and brilliance
my genuis and depression

I dont want to be embarrassed because of my oppression
"it is not an issue" , you say. My life is way better that many others -
But you know, it is MINE, my pain is mine- I am the one who feels it.
My pain needs love
be gentle with my pain
my darkness needs the light of understanding
solidarity

Dont dismiss me
can you accept me the way i am? with my beauty and baggage?
do you see my beauty at all?
I tell the ocean about my pain - the trees hear me

God hears me
I crave the unity of the soul , a community of the heart
communion with God through you and him and her
help me drop my defenses
help me get rid of my identities - I want to be whole when with you
how can i if i am not whole within myself?

help me break free from the grinding wheel - acknowledge my courage - my struggle
embrace my schizophrenia
my madness is part of me
my madness IS me

take me as a whole
Allow me to be me so that I can cease to be me
What I feel is real even if it doesnt make sense to you
Do you know how it feels to be jailed? stripped of your freedom?
do you know how it feels to be a woman? an arab? a palestinian? an artist?
do you want to know? do you care to know?
Does anyone care to know?

Why would they, depressing lamentation ...
minority colonialism feminism ...
identity stuff boring depressing activist blabla..
why would you care ? you were born up there
on the top of the hill

but if you want to be you
i need to be me
there is no you without a me
and only when you stop being you
is when I become me
and only then
is when I stop being me
only then
you can be you
and i can be me
do you see ?
what I'm trying to say ?
Yes or Nay?
Hey?
Hello
Knock knock..
anyone there
or just an empty headskin

let's both seize to be
you and me
and only be
a one:
'We'

THE DEPARTURE – THE ARRIVAL

On that night my friend Iman and her three children came to say goodbye to me, my father played with the children and Iman and my mother talked about things. I don’t remember what.
Three-year-old Raghad was not playing, even though her older brother and sister were having a great time, being tickled by my father and climbing on his shoulders.
Raghad looked at me and said (angrily), “Auntie, don’t you love us?”
I said, “Sure sweetie, I love you very, very much.”
She said, “So how come you’re leaving us? What is in Canada?”
I said, “There is a better job and education for me sweetie.”
She said, “Why can’t you get that here?”
I said, “Because it’s different there.”
I told her some stuff about the future that she didn’t understand, and neither did I.
I noticed that my mother disappeared. When she came back, she had red eyes. She’d been doing that every fifteen minutes. I held myself together perfectly. That night I didn’t sleep at all, I’m sure my father and my mother didn’t either.

Next day we were at the airport. I can’t remember how, but I found myself at the airport with my father ,mother,my uncle, his wife and one of my cousins. All I remember was the very heavy coat that I was wearing; I called it “the sheep.” I was wearing my sheep and feeling that I was about to die from heat. I couldn’t fit my sheep in either of my huge suitcases, they were full. I filled them up with things I couldn’t leave behind..

It was a very long trip, to the unknown. I couldn’t sleep at all. All I remember was the longest sunset in my life — it was almost three hours long. This made me feel happy and optimistic. I remembered a conversation I once had with my mother; which was more beautiful, sunrise or sunset. My mother preferred sunrise because it represents a start. Well, sunset is a start too, a start of a new night and a preparation for another sunrise. I was thinking that both are beautiful, they just have a different taste of beauty and one can’t exist without the other.
I arrived at Toronto's airport. My plane to Ottawa was late, so I had to stay awake. I was exhausted; I'd been up for more than thirty hours. I found sixteen cents on one of the chairs; I thought this was a sign of good luck . The immigration people gave me some welcoming brochures at the airport, and a paper that many people in the Arab world would die or kill for — my permanent residency paper.

Mary, my relative’s friend, was supposed to wait for me in Ottawa. My plane arrived at 2 a.m.— several hours late. I’d never seen Mary, only spoken with her on the phone; all I knew was that she was supposed to wear a green coat. I had my sheep on, and was dragging two huge suitcases while holding my Oud in my hand. There was no one waiting for me. People who were there for other people took them and left. I didn’t see any green coats, or any green things at all. The only green things were my suitcases..
I stood there, not knowing what to do. Suddenly a guy came up to me and asked, “Are you Arab?”
I said — surprised, “Yes, how did you know?” (I was still naive, I didn’t realize it was written all over my face, in my color, features, eyes, everything.)
The guy said, “It’s obvious, you look like an Arab and you have a Oud.”
He asked me where I was from. I told him I was from the West Bank. He told me that he worked at the airport, and that he too was from the West Bank, from Bethlehem! I got excited and told him that I was also from Bethlehem. He asked me which high school I went to. We discovered that his wife was in my class.
“Isn’t there anyone waiting for you?” he asked. I told him about the woman with the green coat who hadn’t come.
He decided that we should call her and take directions. He was going to drive me.
On the phone I asked, “Did I wake you up?”
She said, “Yes.”
I said, “Sorry.”
She explained (not apologized) that the plane was late. It was past her bedtime, and she had to go to bed because she had work in the morning. I lied : “Oh, it’s okay, I understand.”
She asked me to take a cab, so I told her that there was someone ready to drive me.
I thought she’d say, careful or something like that, but she welcomed the idea. She gave him directions. He drove me to her place.
I never saw him again in my life.

انا ما بقول عن حالي شاعرة ... معاذ الله Poetry قدر الشعر

Yahoo canceled yahoo 360. I had a private blog there that I shared with a few friends. I'll be reposting stuff from the old blog.


AUTHOR: DATE: 11/14/2006 14:18:09 -----STATUS: publish BODY:

i lost an entry i did this morning. a thought that i had when i first woke up. but no problem. i can think it again. maybe differently but the same still. so let me tell you... you? who are you??

oh now i remember some of the stuff i thought this morning, one of them was about why i use small 'i' instead of I when i talk about it.
By the way, this is not the main thought. the main thought was about poetry . or maybe i should say about ego.

I was thinking about people who with inflated ego who think they are poets or artists. They forget that a poet is a very deep word, poetry is not the chatter of someone's mind, or them venting , or them stringing together big words. poetry is something that you dont come up with . it comes up with you. it writes you...
هاليومين الكل شاعر.. كل ما حدا طلع كلمتين من تمه بيسميه شعر.. أغلب هالشعرا ما سمعو بمفهوم اسمه البلاغة.. و ما عندهم خبر كيف الفصاحة بيكون شكلها
يرحم أيامكم يا ربع عكاظ
انا ما بقول عن حالي شاعرة ... معاذ الله .. ولا بسمي اللي بكتبه شعر... في أسامي كتيرة الواحد ممكن يستعملها بدون ما يتعدا حدوده وحدود احترامه للغته
قولوا عني دقة قديمة.. مش مهم.. بفرقش عندي.. أحس ما أوهم نفسي وأتفرج على اللي عايشين في أوهام وقاعدين بيحطوا من قدر الشعر..
The divine nature of poetry . the sacredness of a poet. the poet ..the channel of the divine. the medium of god. not some kharabeet w khawater

على فكرة ... مره كنت عايشة فوق السحاب... سحاب صناعي.. أنا صنعته.. كنت كل ما بفكر فكرة بفكر حالي عبقرية بفكر حالي فيلسوفة ... مش اشي بحزن؟؟
It took me along time to realize how pathetic my situation was. and that i had no idea what I was doing , saying or thinking. I was just trapped in a little ego that has been domesticated in me. and that i had to assert for the longest time.
Fake clouds are very dangerous...
فن الأوهام
the art of self deceit


so...
the 'you' is whomever is watching me or my thoughts.. sometimes it feels like i am on a stage and there are these invisible beings watching me.. ghosts , angels, ancestors, the enlightened ones, etc..
there is God also of course . so I talk to YOU. Me also is another YOU .. my 'observer' . I am not sure if that is me or ME. i or I..

لمتى؟

لمتى حبك بَالحشا ساكن
وانتَ تِّمنع؟
لمتى روحي فؤادي فرحمتَك
وانتَ تِّدلع؟
يا قمر يالساكن بالسِما عالي
جيت اشتكيلك همّي والكدر
جيتك اشتكيلك وانِتْ أدرى بحالي
لوعتي عذابي بحُبَّك قَدَر
يا شامخٍ حِلْمُ وهيهاتِ تنطالي
يا بعد الحشا والروح والنظر
من يومٍ عرفتك سكنت بخيالي
إنسلِّ عودي وحالي تبدَّل
يا نجمةٍ تَلمع بالسما وتلالي
منك شحوبي ووضعي تِحَوَّل
أعياني سهدي وَالشوق يا سالي
بعد وجفا وصدود و ماقدر اتِّحَمل
مستوطنٍ بالذهن يا غالي
وما هقيت ذكري على بالك خطر
كيف انساك كيف انسى اللِيالي؟
كِلْ لحظةٍ في حضورك عُمُر
قربَك حياةْ وبعدك هلاكي
يا أغلى من اغلى الناس والبِشَر
أعياني الرّجا وذلّي وابتهالي
عْلامك قليبك اقسى من حجر؟
تسخر من تِشوف حرقتي ولا تبالي
وارجا قلبي الملتاع يصطبر
أضحيت الهدف وكل الآمال

ما اصدّق العيشة بعدك تستمر