Category: Islam
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The Caged Parrot Watches the Demons Dance
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This piece returns to a preoccupation of my own, concerning language. What is the point of writing, the point of taking a position and then articulating it ? And of course that leads to the question, why keep writing these stanzas, these mere words amid all the bizarre and frantic and disastrous political action going…
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BALLAD OF REFUGE by David Punter
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I come in fear. The wheels, the stuttering engine, By road or wave; the endless killing payments. Bit by bit, my mind returns to rubble. You come in fear. The hunched back, failed bravado, They make me squirm. You have no place here, brother; Get back, for you remind me of my weakness. …
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Despatches to my Gazan Son
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Justin C McIntosh has given his permission for his photograph above to be used for the cover of a long Turkish poem by Cahit Koytak, now published as a book with an English translation alongside. I am proud to have been one of the translators. The original Turkish poem is called Gazze Risalesi. In English…
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Sayings
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Reaching for words is like searching the earth for stones and then shaping them one after another into a path. Your words took my breath away. They killed me with their song. They made my womb turn over. Sing to me again. The words I must speak will sentence me to death.…
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Despatches to my Gazan Son
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At the end of last year I translated into English a long poem by the distinguished Turkish poet Cahit Koytak. In Turkish, the poem is called “Gazze Risalesi.” It was written in 2008, but could just as easily have been composed last Summer, during the Israeli bombings which took place then, too. It seems that…
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What is this world? What asketh men to have ?
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There was once a teacher whose words had unusual power. Crowds gathered wherever he spoke. But somehow and at the same time, his mere presence seemed to threaten all order and decorum in the city. With wonderful persuasiveness, he seemed to be calling a whole way of life into question. He was advocating change, astonishing…
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Shahada
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I have recently imagined myself standing before a man of good sense, deep learning and positive engagement with humanity, and professing to that person my basic beliefs. A profession of faith. A sort of Shahada. Once, in a much less comfortable public situation than mine, Martin Luther found himself setting out his position in similar…