"When I was a child, after the Nakba, there were no books. We had one in every five, to school. My dream was to have one all to myself. Maybe that's why I started writing. "
Love
In the far south
A man and a woman
E horizon extends drawn
A forest of rifles
eyes and speeches on the floor of the unfinished home on roads
stealing them when the sea is spreading in the memory now
A man shoots his day
Pat miter
A woman tries
now a bunch of wood and a rose that the bullets have left the ashes
Sale Up to now
touch the silence of space
enthroned in his eyes
and entrusts his secret
E when the flowers mature coffee
- We will have a flower
We - ah - a beautiful puppy
Look at the border - we will have a land.
A man and a woman laugh
And the grass opens a path as they pass
And when the sun shines
In their first bows.
Ibrahim Nasrallah read his verses, the verses of a lifetime, and enchants the audience: there are members of the Palestinian community in Milan, Arab viewers not fans of his vast literary output, or simply curious.
'Verses', edited by Wasim Dahmash for Edizioni Q
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