"I Gaza var merkelappen "terrorist" eller "Hamas barn". Dehumaniseringen var en forutsetning for å angripe sivile mål i det omfanget Israel gjorde under angrepet på Gaza."
"There is only one race, the human race."
Dividing human beings into a hierarchy of races, ethnicities and cultures, the racist 'clash of civilisations" thesis reduced and dehumanised Arabs and Muslims.
"Race is the child of racism, not the father".
- Ta-Nehisi Coates, (Between the World and Me).
(Jeg kan ikke finne sitatene fra denne boken oversatt til norsk.)
I had to arrive as well at the heartrending realization that the dream that had been a balm to my soul, that of a Jewish national rebirth in my people's ancestral biblical home had been achieved by imposing a nightmare on the Palestinian inhabitants of the land, a nightmare that continues to this day.
MY GRANDFATHER WAS A TERRORIST
My grandfather was a terrorist----
He tended to his field,
Watered the roses in the courtyard,
smoked cigarettes with grandmother
on the yellow beach, lying there
like a prayer rug.
My grandfather was a terrorist----
He picked oranges and lemons,
went fishing with brothers until noon,
sang a comforting song en route
to the farrier's with his piebald horse.
My grandfather was a terrorist----
He made a cup of tea with milk,
sat on his verdant land, as soft as silk.
My grandfather was a terrorist----
He departed his house, leaving it for the coming guests,
left some water on the table, his best,
lest the guests die of thirst after their conquest.
My grandfather was a terrorist----
He walked to the closest safe town,
emty as the sullen sky,
vacant as a deserted tent,
dark as a starless night.
My grandfather was a terrorist----
My grandfather was a man,
a breadwinner for ten,
whose luxury was to have a tent,
with a blue UN flag set on the rusting
pole, on the beach next to a cemetery.
"Every beautiful poem is an act of resistance."
Anger in its natural, healthy form is a boundary defense, a dynamic activated when we perceive a threat to our lives or our physical or emotional integrity.
"If you live, live free
or die like the trees, standing up."
Jeg har flere ganger sett at du har hengt deg på, gitt stjerner til kommentarer her på bokelskere.no som har vært ubehagelige, noen ganger kommentarer som latterliggjør andres innlegg og så kommer du nå med en påstand om at du blir mobbet!
Ava kom med saklig kritikk...dette er ikke mobbing.
Israel's LIES Destroyed By Palestinian Analyst - w/. MUHAMMAD SHEHADA, Owen Jones
(anbefalt lenke.)
Hvordan kan du skrive om aksept og respekt og samtidig gi stjerne til en person som har lest 0 bøker (som omtaler seg selv som Moral Politiet), har vært bokelsker i 2 timer og som i sin kommentar latterliggjør innlegget til Ava?
Ava som har vært her på bokelskere.no i 14 år som har 3611 bøker på siden sin og som har inspirert meg så mange ganger til å skrive, legge inn dikt (som ennå ikke har blitt utgitt i bokform) med lenker og til å lese.
"Poetry can ressist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by."
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there, I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland.....
My son asks me whether,
when we return to Gaza,
I could get him a puppy.
I say, "I promise, if we can find any.'
I ask my son if he wishes to become
a pilot when he grows up.
He says he won't wish
to drop bombs on people and houses.
"Poetry can resist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by."
"A poem is not just words placed on a line. It's a cloth. Mahmoud Darwish wanted to build his home, his exile, from all the words in the world. I weave my poems with my veins. I want to build a poem like a solid home, but hopefully not with my bones."
"When everything is lost, what remains?
For Mosab Abu Toha, it's poetry. He shares how his verses capture the grief and resilience of Gaza in the midst of destruction."