Between You And Me

History repeats itself

A crusade that passed through me

While I was in the capital of gloom, a crusade passed by in the form of a woman, and the heart became under mandate, unable to respond against the colonial power. A mixture of sweetness and torment. She has the face of an angel and the stab of a warrior who opens the bolts of consciousness. She opens a door, enters the chest and struts in its left side, and when the full moon appears from between the clouds, she looks up as if she were looking at a mirror. She took from the gazelle, impudence and suspicion, and from the Arabian horses, stubbornness and strut. And now after her invasion, I suffer from love, alienation, and ill fortune. I am the hawk I am the knight I am the poet And she is my punishment.

By : Jamal Bander

Senin sessizliğinde kanıyordum.

In my eyes, you seemed to lack a lot. you lacked maturity, manners, and thought. You also lacked worries, gloominess, concerns, or reasons to cry. So whenever I looked at you… I was annoyed.

“And if happiness visits you again, do not remember its previous betrayal..Let that happiness in, and burst!”

-Mahmoud Darwish

Painting by : Jana Brike

في أحضان السكون

هنا أنحرُ الليلَ، أغني الزمان هنا أتلقَّى حديث القمرْ هنا أقتلُ الشِّعرَ عند الغروبِ وأبعثهُ حينَ يأتي السحرْ هنا أصهرُ النورَ حتَّى يذوب وألقي في عيون الزهرْ هنا يرقد الهمُّ في خاطري ويسلبني أملي المنتظَرْ

هنا يومض اللحن في أضلع وينزع أسرارَهُ من دمِي وينحتُ من مقلتيّ الرؤى وتطربُ أوتاره أنجمي ويغرقني في الشقاء اللذيذِ وتملأ أوهامه عالمي

محمد الثبيتي -

I HAVE NO POWER

"I have no power to change you or explain your ways Never believe a man can change a woman Those men are pretenders who think that they created woman from one of their ribs, A woman does not emerge from a man's ribs, not ever! it is he who emerges from her womb, like a fish rising from depths of water

and like streams that branch away from a river It's he who circles the sun of her eyes and imagines he is fixed in place.."

- Nizar Qabbani

Look Milena,

"I love you the most." I say, but maybe that's not true love.

If i say, "You are the knife I turn inside myself", maybe I would be explaining true love.

And Milena, I can bear anything with you in my heart.

| Franz Kafka

You who pass between our fleeting words

Like bitter dust, pass wherever you want, but do not pass between us like flying insects

Take the past if you like, to the antiques market

Stack your illusions in a deserted hole, and go!

And reside wherever you like, but do not reside among us. It is time for you to depart and die wherever you wish, but do not die among us.

So get out of our land, from our sea, from our wheat, from our salt, from everything that has wounded us, and be erased from the vocabulary of memory.