kelp

Excerpt from Requiem for Mohammad Ad-Dura by Mahmoud Darwish

Nestled in his father's arms, a bird
afraid of the hell above him, Mohammad prays:
Father, protect me from flying.
My wing is weak against the wind,
and the light is black.

Mohammad wants to go home,
without a bicycle, without a new shirt.
He wants his school desk and his book
of grammar. Take me home, father, so I can finish
my homework and complete my years slowly,
slowly on the seashore and under the palms.
Nothing further.
Nothing beyond.

Mohammad faces an army, without a stone, without
the shrapnel of stars. He did not see the wall
where he could write: 'My freedom will
not die.' He has, as yet, no freedom,
no horizon for a single Picasso dove.
He is still being born. He is still
being born into the curse of his name.
How often should a boy be born without a childhood or a country?
And where will he dream, when the dream comes to him,
and the earth is a wound and an altar?

translated by Tania Tamari Nasir and Christopher Millis

Drake's Beach

Quote: Elsa Morante

"To tell the truth - as an ancient law teaches - intelligence contaminates mysteries ..."
from Aracoeli

Quote: Michel Haar

"While feigning objectivity, the enterprise of knowing schematizes and creates fictitious coherences."

Quote: Francis Bacon

"(the painter) will only catch the mystery of reality if he doesn't know how to do it."
from Sylvester's Interviews with Francis Bacon 1962 - 1979

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