Mahmoud Darwich's  poetry evening

Algeria is present at the Darwich evening. Arabs are also present, Palestinians, North Africans and Easterners. The Palestinian wound brought us together as well as poetry and we are thirsty to hear a real poet who does not live on cause and poetry, but lives for cause and poetry. Next to us were three English-speaking Africans. Wajdi interviewed them and knew they are from SWAPO. He asked them, “Do you understand Arabic?” One of them replied, “No, but when we listen to Darwich’s poetry, we feel it, even if we don’t understand it, because his suffering and that of his people are similar to that of our people in the racist South African system”.

I evoked in my imagination the recent past. This street was French fifteen years ago, or so thought Europeans in Algeria. This street is now again Algerian, Arab and African. There is no doubt that the streets of El Quds "Jerusalem" will again become Palestinian and surrender to their true population of Muslims, Christians and Jews. The streets of Johannesburg will also find their true people. The struggle of the peoples will win: force will not triumph over the law unless its people give up their rights.

The poet’s voice rose and there was silence for a moment on the street, but it’s an important street where traffic is difficult to stop. We couldn't understand anything because of the noise from the cars. However, we felt from his intonation exactly as the militants of "Swapo" felt that his words, dripping with blood and pain, then became a whip hitting usurpers and racists and a rock unshakable and implacable before an unjust power. Then his words flourished seasons promising hope, love and tolerance. We flew over the wings of poetry with the rhythm that comes from the loudspeaker. I have felt the voices of poets from the occupied territory and poets from the diaspora, Samih El kacem, Tawfiq Ziad, Ibrahim Toukan, Abdulkarim Al-Karmi, Fadwa Touqan, Haroun Hachem Rachid and Kamal Nasser and others. Their voices were mixed with the voice of Mahmoud Darwich in a single rhythm: the rhythm of love for Palestine and the call for tenacity and the struggle for its liberation.

Abdellah Khammar

The second trimester: Second part

An extract taken from the novel: Entry bell to class