Dying like a Statue

من ديوان "عصر التسلية" - رعد عبدالقادر

Sargon Boulus' Arrival In Where-city

من طبعة إنجليزية خاصة لمجموعة من قصائد ديوان "الوصول إلى مدينة أين" عام ١٩٨٢  

From a special English edition of Arrival In Where-city, printed in 1982. 

رسومات صلاح عناني من رواية "اللجنة" لصنع الله إبراهيم

من رسومات صلاح عناني لرواية صنع الله ابراهيم "اللجنة" - طبعة ١٩٨٢ عن مطبوعات القاهرة

Salah Enani's illustrations for Sonallah Ibrahim's The Committee (Cairo Publications, 1982).

Fourteen Poems from Loneliness Spoils its Victims

Dara Abdallah

Translated by: Mona Kareem

Illustration by Shuxian Lee

Wars

This might sound crazy, but isn't war nostalgic for singularity, loneliness, purity, and solitude? Isn't killing others considered "cleansing"? War is a mechanical rubbing between groups that are fighting to translate the collectivities' desire to be composed of individuals. War is the aggressive application of an instinctual longing for a purified heavenly world where the inhabitants are pseudo-elements, and quietness is an echo of loneliness. Who among us remembers the faces of those killed in massacres: in Halabja, Karm Al-Zaytoun, and Sabra and Shatila—where the hands of hundreds and thousands got together to jump from one shore to another. Their beating hearts and united breath might redeem the tragedy of a solitary individual. During a massacre, the killer misses out on the pleasure of killing one individual at a time. In massacres, hundreds of names decay, while one victim becomes a star: loneliness spoils its victims.

Imprisoned Poet Ashraf Fayadh’s ‘Frida Kahlo’s Mustache’

Palestinian poet Ashraf Fayadh has now gone more than a year without trial in Saudi prisons on the ostensible charge that he’s been “insulting the Godly self” through his poetry, as well as “having long hair”. Poet and activist Mona Kareem has translated one of Fayadh’s poems, posted online on Laghoo.

Frida Kahlo’s Mustache
By Ashraf Fayadh, trans. Mona Kareem

I will ignore the smell of mud, and the need to reprimand the rain, and the burn that has long since settled in my chest.
I am looking for fitting consolation for my situation, which doesn’t allow me to interpret your lips however I wish
Or to brush away the drops of mist from your reddish petals
Or to ratchet down the level of obsession that overtakes me when I realize you are not beside me at the moment.

‘The Complex': A Chapter from Mohammed Rabie’s Acclaimed ‘Year of the Dragon’

“The Complex” is a chapter from Mohammed Rabie’s Year of the Dragon, a novel that explores the infuriating, bizarre, and sometimes hilarious underbelly of Egyptian bureaucracy. Rabie was born in 1978, and his first novel Kawkab Anbar (2010, Amber Planet) won first prize in the Sawiris Award’s emerging writers’ category. Year of the Dragon was released in 2012. Translated by Mona Kareem


Na’em arrives at Aisha al-Taymouriya St. in Garden City, walking as he looks at the buildings, searching for their numbers. Within meters, he sees Qasr al-Nil police station on his right. He then looks across and finds building number six. He notices the huge sign atop the building with the name “The Committee of Dilemmas, Obstacles, Troubles, and Glue.”

Na’em hesitates before he enters; he wants to get the task done and return home. But now he needs to focus on the pink death certificate and forget about going home. He needs to arrange his thoughts to get this certificate. His thoughts are interrupted by a ringing voice that asks him what he needs. Na’em looks for the source of this voice.

* Continue reading here. 

الموت كتمثال

في الثالثة والعشرين من عمرك،

تصلين مع عائلتك الحزينة

وتعتقدين أنك فتاة تذهب للمطارات ولا تسافر.

تجلسين في الطائرة محاطة بجنود سود

ينامون ويحلمون بعراقيين اضطروا لقتلهم.

خلال 16 ساعة، خسرت بلدك للمرة الثانية،

بلد لا يمكن لأحد أن يحبها.

الجامعة تدفع لك راتباً أقل من الحد الأدنى

لتعلمي أبناءهم عن نساء يتزوجن بشكل تقليدي،

وعن رجال لم يكتشفوا مثليتهم.

تذهبين للفصل كأنك في مقابلة للحصول على فيزا.

هناك حياة تركتها وتعلمين أنها ستموت مثل تمثال،

وهنالك حياة في المنتصف لا تخرج من مربع skype

هذه بيوت تصلح للفئران، للصناديق، ولنا.

تعلمين:

أن قلبك ينبض وحيداً،

أنك لا تغضبين طويلاً لأنك مشغولة بعمل الكثير،

أن كل الأشياء تتغير إذا انتظرنا بلا نهاية،

أن لا وعود يمكن إنقاذها بعد عبور المحيط.

* كيكا

Who decides how to rank Arab women?

It took Western media a few weeks after the toppling of Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak to bring up the question of women’s rights in relation to the Arab revolutions. The question is certainly not innocent considering the deployment of women’s issues in war propaganda and the presumed image of Arabs as incapable of intellectual revolutions that can bring about values of equality and freedom, presuming these values exist elsewhere.

The recent poll by the Thomson Reuters Foundation does not diverge from this discourse. On social media, women and men have been debating the methodology and outcomes of the poll. Although the status of Arab women did not witness any significant developments, a critique to this report is necessary to highlight how problematic these polls are, particularly when measured on “human rights.”

في فوائد الحداثة

قد أكون سلحفاة، 

تقودني بحقيبتك 

بينما يغزو دخانك نصف المدينة..

السلحفاة وحدها قادرة علي رؤية كل شيء: 

الفتاة التي ارتدت حجاباً 

لأنها تعبت من تسريح شعرها، 

الشاب الذي يجمع الفقه بالهب هوب، 

والدولة العميقة التي نستمني في حفرها..

أمي تعّرف غربتي بفقدان رائحتي التي تتوهمها، 

أنا أعّرف غربتي في علاقتي مع غسالة الملابس..

وحدها المغاسل العامة في أمريكا 

تحترم التعددية الثقافية،

فقد تغسل ملابسك بعد عدوك

واهماً بأن العرق لم يختلط!

أنا أحب المدينة،

وأحب الحداثة فعلاً، 

فقط لأنني لا أطيق الحشرات! 

* نشرت في أخبار الأدب