zalzal
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Question, Mahmoud Darwish & oud
Has Mahmoud Darwish written any poem on oud or music, sound or the like ??
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palestine48
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No but Marcel Khalife has taken many of his poems and transcribed them to music. In fact it has composed a great amount of his vocal work and is what
he is known for also.
There is a Dvd out on Marcel Khalife, It is called Voyager. In it he explains how this relationship was born. He was stuck in his home during the
Lebanese civil war and he found books to keep him busy and one of thise books were poems by mahmoud darwish. So he took the poems and wrote songs to
them and when he was able to leave he went to france and played them to one of his friends. I beleive now Marcel and Mahmoud are great friends who
work together a lot. one of the poems got marcel arrested too. It was called yusuf and it contained a verse from the quran about the story of
joseph. since marcel sung it, the muslim authorities in lebanon accused him of violating islamic traditions which bans the singing of the quran and
he was put on trial but later acquitted.
my favorite khalife album on darwishes songs is promses of the storm. I think its one his earliest albums but has the most beautiful lyrics.
that albums has the songs passport, rita, ummee(mother)on it.
rita was an eye opening song. I havent had the time to fully break it down but its basically about mahmoud's love for a girl who happens to be
israeli and the soldier has a rifle between the two so they can be together.
Marcel's music of Mahmouds poetry is the reason I am such a big marcel fan. Its amazing to listen to these beautiful words sung.
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excentrik
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yes, Mahmoud Darwish is one of the greats... maybe some day we'll live in a world where ALL people are given equal opportunity to voice their
narratives and oral histories. Thank God for Darwish.
Record. I am Arab.
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palestine48
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One of the best lines ever written. I forgett how powerful his words can be in english as they are in arabic.
Dude tarik, i get Will's voice poppin in my head when I think of that line. Whats up with that guy. How is he doing. Send him my regards.
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zalzal
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Thankuou Palestine48, i barely knew about MKH cooperation with MD, now with yr precisions is much clearer. Nice. I just read the famous one called
"Bitaqa" Identity card.
Can you imagine how powerful would be if Mahmoud Darwish takes many of the oud compositions by Marcel Khalifa and transcribed them to poetry??.
Mahmoud's poetry on what oud and music sounds awake on him could be the peak of human universal lyrics never reached
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palestine48
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its possible he might have already i dunno. if you can read arabic i would do some research. unfortunantly i cant so its hard fo rme to find the
stuff. i think on the vayeger dvd there was a scene where the two were together and marcels latest album (taqasim) is dedicated to darwish.
i have a story about a similar topic, i have two uncles( one is really my uncle other is a fmaily friend "uncle" the real uncle was a 3rd grade drop
out but e had a talent that would allow him to freestyle proses ff the top of his head. he would talk and talk and also constantly type his thoughts
even though he was "uneducated" . while it indeed was poetry he preffered not to stick to a form that traditional poetry follows. my musician uncle
wanted to use his lyrics to write songs but my poet uncle insisted that he cant change the form or the words and unffortunantly it did not allow my
musician uncle to form the lyrics into a structured song. it was an interesting story of 2 brilliant minds.
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zalzal
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http://www.smith.edu/poetrycenter/poets/solosontheoud.html
SOLOS ON THE OUD
POEM BY SAADI YOUSEF
ppp 1.
A clock rang for the tenth time,
it rang ten o’clock,
it rang ten.
Across from the church tower
a star flickered and disappeared
and a nightingale vanished in the pines
fading into a green mirage of night.
Come to my house, girl.
My house is my shrine.
My house is a shrine.
The church shut its doors
and the candles were put out
and the kerchiefs were stained with wine.
ppp 2.
On the dark path
the water was silent, and the dry leaves
and the deep shadows.
On the dark path
the sparrows didn’t sing
and in the garden
the whispering brook didn’t sing.
God of drowned alphabets,
where, where is the shiver of drowsy shadows?
Her hand is in mine
and in my chest a garden.
ppp 3.
Land where I no longer live,
distant land,
where the sky weeps,
where the women weep,
where people only read the newspaper.
Country where I no longer live,
lonely country,
sand, date palms, and brook.
O wound and spike of wheat!
O anguish of long nights!
Country where I no longer live,
my outcast country,
from you I only gained a traveler’s sails,
a banner ripped by daggers
and fugitive stars.
Algiers, 16/8/1965
from WITHOUT AN ALPHABET, WITHOUT A FACE (Graywolf Press, 2002) Translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa
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zalzal
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Darwish wrote of Khalife, "Marcel Khalife's music eliminated the gap created by the poets between poem and song. He restored to exiled emotions its
rescuing power to reconcile poetry, which glorified its distance from people and was thus abandoned by them. Poetry, therefore, developed the song of
Marcel Khalife, While Khalife's song mended the relationship of poetry with people."
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zalzal
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THE CORTLAND REVIEW
John Schertzer has taught at The New School and has been an editor of LIT. His poems and criticism have appeared, or are forthcoming, in 6,500, can we
have our ball back?, Shampoo Poetry, Terra Incognita, The Germ, Drunken Boat, and Frightful Stages: from the Primitive to the Therapeutic (Haworth
Press, 2001).
Days' Treasury
These tender elements refuel the ship
for now's knotty discovery. How would you
like to take a bath in it while morning
has you tying the last of your shoes. By the printing
press but in half the time. The yellowing
of the leather in your room is disasterless
but not fruitless. There is a blue umbrella
over a purple owl whose name is written on a white wall
behind a cart of melons and pamphlets
or manifestos. The letters are so faded even the owl
can barely see them without its special glasses
made of forgetfulness and austerity. It is raining
on the roof but not the patio. An oud player breaks in
and removes his shoes made of his most recent
compositions, but the owl doesn't hear.
He pretends it is bazooki music instead of himself.
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zalzal
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Ok the last one, sorry for that
In The Country of My Dreams...
For Marcel Khalife & Khalil Gibran
The tales my mother and father told me
are true: the apricots are as big
as oranges and as bright as the sun.
Grapes sag on the vine from the wealth
of wine already inside them. The figs burst
as you walk through the groves,
begging for you to hold one
and admire the milk cracking their skin.
In the country of my dreams, my sixth grade
geography book explained: Long haired sheep
roam the rocky terrain of Mt. Lebanon
and Mt. Sannin. Oranges in huge bundles
are thrown onto carts pulled by donkeys
to travel west from the Bekka Valley.
Silk spins on spools and every woman's
fingers are blistered from piercing
her intricately embroidered fabric.
A 1945 National Geographic described it as
a small country bordered by Palestine
to the south, Syria to the north
and east. Peopled by Arabs, Christians,
Muslims, Jews, Druse, Kurds, Armenians,
Bedouins, Europeans, everyone is welcome.
A tourist economy with a multi-lingual population.
Christ once walked its hillsides.
In the country of my dreams, the guide books
tell me, the ancients left their treasures
at Sidon and Tyre, that the Romans landed
their temples in Ba'albek, that the sea
is the color of the finest jewels, lapis
and turquoise. Gold can be found
in the shops, on the arms of women,
in the teeth of men, hanging from the tiny
lobes of daughters, like pieces of stars.
Now the newspapers say, a fire burns
in the country of my dreams, wicked and consuming.
flying from the hands of soldiers, from the mouths
of children who have been raised by war. Smoldering
on the lips of mothers, heads bent praying
to God, to Allah, to anyone who will listen.
That we cannot travel freely and sanctioned.
We are dangerous to ourselves
and our friends.
But they are not listening. In the country
of my dreams, no one plots invasions with
armies of soldiers. From the edge
of the sea, it's our poets who set sail,
mouths full of music, our painters and musicians,
artists and philosophers. Armed
with a infantry of voices, people rise
and sing, clap their hands and whirl
in circles and stomp, shouting their name,
their country, signifying their cause.
At the beginning of the century, it is you,
Khalil, who wracks our bodies
so completely, generations clutch
your words to steady their bosoms, year
after year, whisper your phrases at their weddings,
and cultivate gardens to commemorate you name
and no other's. At the end of the century, it is you,
Marcel, who makes them leap up shouting in gospel,
clutching the hands of their children, dancing
with abandon, and calling out listen, we
are not alone, we do not forge.
To produce such warriors as these:
Gibran and Khalife, takes a soil luscious
and fertile. A fact the books overlooked:
the newspapers failed to see. What we have
to fear from this country is the note held strong
the stroke of the painter, the string of the oud,
the beat of the drum, hand on skin, fingers
on flute, bells, language that sears our temples,
and shakes the silence of memory: agitates
the stillness of history. And we have heroes,
whose instruments are aimed directly
at our hearts, who do not kill us,
but keep us alive.
by Elmaz Abinader
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ALAMI
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Oummi Typograohy animation
Two years ago I did an animation (that's what I do for a living), it was a TV promotion for a family spot.
The idea was to use the legendary Oummy song and use the greatest arab graphic artform: Typography to create a visual for this great poem and song, we
took the permission of Mahmoud Darwich and Marcel Khalife and came up with this 30 sec spot.
I am attaching the movie (it is very compressed in order to stay under 1 MB)
You can find a hi res version on: http://www.thepostoffice.com.lb
In the showreel download section
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SamirCanada
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Beutifull poem by AbiNader.
Thank you Zalzal.
The video is really nice too alami. I like the way you did the caligraphy flow. Impressive.
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zalzal
Oud Junkie
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Yes, liked a lot as well the caligraphie flow. Nice animation.
Then you will appreciate the visual of these both clips made by syrians
Kulna Sawa.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSAPZTEYpFo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W74YKb8p
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