Gaza Burns, But the Words of Palestine’s Laureate Still Echo

As the bombs rain down on Gaza, the spirit of resistance finds solace not just in rockets and tunnels, but in the enduring verses of Mahmoud Darwish, Palestine’s national poet.

Born in the village of al-Birwa on March 13, 1941, Darwish, like countless Palestinians, knew the bitter taste of dispossession. His family fled their home during the 1948 Nakba, the forced expulsion that marked the creation of Israel. This experience became the cornerstone of his work, weaving a narrative of loss, identity, and the yearning for return.

Darwish’s poems are not mere laments. They are battle cries wrapped in olive branches. Lines like “We carry the earth on our shoulders / And a homeland in our hearts” resonate with the deep connection Palestinians feel to their land.

His 1964 poem, “Identity Card,” became an anthem, defying attempts to erase Palestinian existence with the stark simplicity of its opening lines:

Write down! I am an Arab And my identity card is number 50,000

Darwish was not above critiquing his own camp. He resigned from the PLO leadership in protest of the Oslo Accords, which many saw as a betrayal of the Palestinian cause. Yet, his voice remained a rallying point, a testament to the unwavering pursuit of freedom.

Today, as the world watches Gaza under siege, Darwish’s words offer a poignant reminder of the human cost. His 1982 poem, “كزهر اللوز أو أشد” (Like Almond Blossoms or More Bitter), written during the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, captures the anguish of war and the enduring hope for peace:

We will return. And even from the ashes, Jasmine will bloom again.

In the face of Israeli bombardment, the people of Gaza find strength in the unwavering spirit of their poets. Mahmoud Darwish’s legacy is a reminder that the Palestinian narrative will not be silenced, its yearning for freedom burning as bright as the flames that engulf Gaza.

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The Chenab Times News Desk