Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, January 20, 2008

To Die So Young A Hero


Today fellow blogger Hans posted a story about a Turkish Muslim who will be playing Anne Frank in a stage production of The Diary of Anne Frank.

Besides having read Anne Frank's diary in middle school, I have become familiar in more latter years of a Jewish diarist and poet whose writing was equally if not more powerful than Anne Frank's masterpiece. The creator of this other great Holocaust document was Hannah Senesh (1921-1944). In fact, I am an even greater fan of Senesh's diary than I am of Frank's because of its' maturity and depth. More about Hannah and her poetry can be read here.

My most favorite of all her poems is this one.

Walk To Caesaerea

God---may there be no end
to sea, to sand,
water's splash,
lightning's flash,
the prayer of man

Sunday, December 16, 2007

A Poem By An Iraqi

I live in Georgia, and our state "Georgia On My Mind" was made famous by Ray Charles. For me, however, I could re-word the lyrics and make it "Iraq On My Mind" since that country has continuously been in my thoughts almost every day since the war started. Please bear with me if I tend to post here regularly something pertaining to Iraq, but this is my blog and like the old song said, "It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to." It's my blog... :)

Back in the spring while looking for a magazine on freelance writing at Borders Bookstore, I ran across the spring and summer edition of Atlanta Review magazine which is a periodical featuring contemporary poetry not only by Americans, but my poets in other countries. The edition I found was labeled in red "Iraq" and contained poems by Iraqis translated from the original Arabic. I am going to post here a poem by an Iraqi which is in the magazine.

The Heart of a Woman

The heart of a woman is the only country
That I can enter without a passport.
Where no policeman
Asks me for my card
Or searches my suitcase
Full of contraband joys
Forbidden poems
And delicious sorrows.
The heart of a woman is the only country
That does not heap up heavy weapons
Nor force its citizens to fight its wars.

By Lateef Helmet
translated by Soheil Najm

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Russia's Romantic: Alexander Pushkin


Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin (1799-1837) was a figure in the Romantic Movement or Romanticism of the late 18th and early 19th century. Unlike the best known of the Romantics in western Europe like Byron, Keats, and Shelley who all died young, Pushkin lived in Tsarist Russia. He is the literary giant of Russia, and with him Russian literature began.
Pushkin's origins are as Romantic and colorful on his maternal side as his writings. Both of his parents were of the lesser nobility. His father Sergei's family had been boyars, and his mother Nadezhda's grandfather had been an African slave first placed in the court of the Turkish Ottoman sultan and then purchased by Tsar Peter the Great. Peter freed Pushkin's great grandfather Abraham Hannibal and adopted him as his son. Abraham was educated in Europe and became a military engineer. His exact origins in Africa are not clearly unknown, but it is believed that he may have been from what is now either Ethiopia, Chad, or Eritrea.

Alexander Pushkin was born in Moscow. Because of his privileged background he attended the Imperial Lyceum near St. Petersburg. At 14 his first poem was published. Throughout his short life Pushkin wrote hundreds of poems both short and epic and even short stories. He wrote a short story about his great grandfather which is entitled The Negro of Peter the Great. His poetry is so rich and the language so diverse, that in translation it is nearly impossible to capture the complete flavor of his writings. Pushkin aided in revolutionizing the Russian language and the art of poetic writing. His poems contained themes of Romance, adventure, fantasy, and satire. The satirical element in his writings caused him to get into trouble several times with the Russian authorities. He was exiled to the Caucasus, the Crimea, and to his family's estates for upsetting the Tsar with his writings.
Pushkin was a favorite of the ladies, and had numerous love affairs with women who ranged from peasants to the upper crust. Eventually after sowing his wild oats for a number of years Pushkin married a very beautiful young woman named Natalya Goncharova. He once again regained favor and was admitted back into the Russian court, but he was highly suspicious of this suddent return to good feelings toward him. He believed that his wife's beauty was the magnet that was drawing him back into semi-favor, particularly when the Tsar showed his true colors and appointed Pushkin to the lowest post at court. By now nearly drowning in debt, and enraged by all the attention his wife was getting from the men including the Tsar. He soon began to believe rumors that his wife was having an affair with a French emigre. He challenged the man to a duel in which both were wounded, but Pushkin was hurt mortally dying two days later. He was only 37, and like the chief Romantics of England (Byron, Shelly, and Keats) he was dead before age 40. Like Byron and other young men of his generation, he was inspired by the Greek struggle for freedom from the Ottoman Turks, keeping a meticulous diary of the uprising. Even though his marriage was turbulent, Pushkin and Natalya had four children together.

Today in Russia, Pushkin's memory lives on in the names of streets, institutions, and monuments. His poems and stories were fertile ground for usage by Russian composers like Tchaikovsky, Mussorgsky, and Rimsky-Korsakov. Pushkin's use of language actually helped enrich the Russian lexicon. His love for the common people helped him to retain appeal even during Communist times in Russia.
In 1999 a stature of Pushkin was erected at George Washington University in Washington, DC. I have been an admirer of Pushkin for a long time because of his dynamic and Romantic life and also for his black heritage. Most Americans have probably never heard of him. How amazed they would be if they knew that Russia's greatest poet and the inaugurator of Russia's golden age of literature was what some people in America would call a black man.

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