On February 14, poet and memoirist Mourid Barghouti died in Amman, Jordan, having spent most of his life in various exiles:
Below, a selection from his work available in translation, online.
Excerpt from I Saw Ramallah, with an introduction by Edward W. Said, translated by Ahdaf Soueif
It is very hot on the bridge. A drop of sweat slides from my I forehead down to the frame of my spectacles, then the lens. A mist envelops what I see, what I expect, what I remember. The view here shimmers with scenes that span a lifetime; a lifetime spent trying to get here. Here I am, crossing the Jordan River. I hear the creak of the wood under my feet. On my left shoulder a small bag. I walk westward in a normal manner–or rather, a manner that appears normal. Behind me the world, ahead of me my world.
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