Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Abu Mazen just said that based on the Israeli war on Gaza, it looks like 2008 will be the year of peace. I kid you not.
Tuesday March 4th, 2008 at 5:30 PM on the steps of Dearborn City Hall, located on the corner of Schaefer and Michigan Ave.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Sunday, March 02, 2008
"Oh...who will stop the windmills in my head?
Who will remove the knives from my heart?
Who will kill my poor children...?
In order that they do not...grow up in the red
furnished apartments..
servants..
catamites..
pimps...
who will kill my poor children?"
CALL FOR A SOLIDARITY VIGIL FOR GAZA***
MONDAY, 3 MARCH, 2008
11.45 A.M.
Location: Harvard Square, in front of Au Bon Pain
The Man Whose Back is Against the Wall by Libyan poet Muhammad Al-Fayturi (my translation):
"For whom?
I embrace fire while dead...
and fight
I, who have no land, no country
no face, no time
no glory, no price
For whom?
Your eyes spit in my eyes..
I am the fugitive..
Stare in my eyes as you wish
Say that I was a coward
that I was weak
Cry over my birth
Raise your quivering hands
to the sky
If only you searched my soul..
my blood..
You will only find
rejection and contempt
I hate you all..
Do not beg..
Do not smile..
Your dry smile..
only fills me with contempt
for you
A rock I am,
so do not call
I condemn you all,
you clowns
I do not make exceptions..
In the name of your glory,
my nation is clothed
in mourning
And in the dust of your horses,
my homeland was lost!
...My cause is mine alone
and after me, there is fire"
"I was born carrying my corpses
on my shoulder
I was born, to my sorrow
I had no say over my
arrival or birth
I am the victim of my
history and chains
Damn. The big damn
is chasing me,
it afflicted my grandparents
Tomorrow, it will embrace
my children and grandchildren
and they will realize as I did
in my eagerness
that I came to this world,
to my sorrow
I came carrying my corpses
over my shoulder
aimlessly"
"They could not recognize me from the shadows that
absorb my color in the passport,
My wound was exposed for them,
to a tourist who loves to collect pictures,
They could not recognize me, Oh, do not leave
my hand without a sun,
because the trees know me...
and so do all the songs of rain,
Do not leave me pale like rain.
All the birds that
chased my hand at the gate of the distant airport,
all the meadows of wheat,
all the prisons..
all the white tombs,
all the borders...
all the handkerchiefs that waved,
all the eyes,
were with me, but they excluded them
from the passport!
Naked without a name, without identity?
On a soil that I raised with those hands?
Job yelled today toward the sky:
Do not make me a lesson twice!
O, gentlemen,
O, gentlemen, the Prophets
Do not ask the trees for their names
Do not ask the valleys about their mothers,
from my forehead, the sword of light is split
and from my hand, the water of the river springs,
My nationality resides in the hearts of all the people,
so go ahead and remove my passport!"