Muniam Alfaker - A cloud on the travel -

MuniamAlfaker

 A cloud on the travel

 To build a homeland

Once I took

A bit of sand,

A few herbs.

A little water
And a lot of  barbed wire.
Then I made  myself a home.
Could I call it “Iraq”?
/////////////////////////////////////////

The Soldier

He was neither so soft
To be broken
Nor  so tender
To be bended
He was floating  around
In  an empty  loneliness.
During his first vacation
He came home by truck.
In his second leave
He came back in a bus.

In his third leave

He returned in a box

////////////////////////////////

A family

In the morning
A cup of coffee
With  the cheese and olives
The breakfast table is widened
by the hands.
When  father was about to go,
the boy asked for some chocolate,
the mother asked for a kiss,
And  father said: “I`ll come back ”

/////////////////////////////////////

In the evening
The boy sits in the porch,
The mother is in the kitchen,
And the father is in the morgue.

//////////////////////////////////
You cannot make
My mouth
A prison cell,
Where my tongue
Is locked up
For a lifetime

////////////////////////////////////////

How many times
I have put on trousers
That were not mine.
And a shirtis not mine.
How many times
I have  wandered on streets
That were not my streets
And lived through days
that were not my days.
//////////////////////////////////////

 The Pain

If the pain were white
We could decorate the facade

Of our houses
And the livingrooms

But since the pain is black
we put it away
in the lowermost drawers
of the heart.
////////////////////////////////////////


Fall

His body was  a wagon
His feet were the horse.
As the wagon rolls
The horse submerges.

/////////////////////////////////////

A mother`s slumber

The sun has left us all withered
And the moon is a sleep at he rooftop.
My beloved hasn’t  combed
her hair yet.
I have not shaved my face.
Cause my beloved mother
Is stillasleep.

////////////////////////////////

Grandfather

the sun the sun
Climbs up climbs up
The sky the sky

The short hedge the short hedge
Casts a low shadow casts a low shadow

On the chair on the chair
Sits my grandfather

The dust

/////////////////////////////////////

A cloud

On this swelter
a cloud perched, running away
from its own sky.
It snapped the back of the siesta

That’s  why my mother

Poured into tears
//////////////////////////////

Childhood

On the way to the farmyard
my childhood streamed
The earth lapped it up.

////////////////////////////////////

The house

The house does not take a stroll along the garden
nor does it go the cinema,
but it sleeps
with all its furnishings
on my body
in order to break something
in my soul
//////////////////////////////////

l1. Looking at the water

If they  place
all mirrors  in the darkness,
and shroud all glasses
 with blackcolour,
if they convey all combs
to  death,
and forbid the eyes
to look to each other,
and seize looking
to the water
could the face rebel,
and the hair disobey?

/////////////////////////////////////////

Salima

in the cold,
she comes with fire
in the heat
she comes with ice
in the sorrow
she comes alone,
And in  the joy,
she shares with all .
//////////////////////////////////

awaiting 

When he  waited for her
One hour, a couple of  hours
and she hadn’t come,
He gently put his cheek
Towards the bench and said,
“ Oh bench,

may I see you
tomorrow in the same place?”
//////////////////////////////////////

 the key said to the lock
(as it turned inside twice ):
You are useless without me!
And the keyreplied:
So areyou!
////////////////////////////////////

All of their clamor
will not make you you
an audible word.
cause I  loved you
silently.

///////////////////////////////////
Reiteration

I reiterate myself
at the table,

and the same chair
and say what I have said
yesterday.
I have only a broken pencil
and some papers,
runaway from the jail of routine .

.////////////////////////////////

A key

For 30 years
I have been searching for a key
Of gold,silver,
Even of plastic,
To all my closed doors.

//////////////////////////////////

Gladness

oh myfeet!
come on forego me!
While I will be late
To cast away
the old fears

From my heart.
///////////////////////////

In the desert of love
your heart
might lead you to my well.
so you could drink
the darkness.

/////////////////////////////

Stillness

the air gently
 lifts up the curtains
to let the light in quietly
quietly.

Stillness
is the conversation

ofthe objects.

//////////////////////////////

Relationship

 oh you the air,
with your soft scarf
You dried  my tears away
and lulled me to sleep.
oh you the air,
 only for your

I opened my doors
and my  windows as well.
sopleasedon’tblow outmycandles.

/////////////////////////////////

I know

I put my hand on your hair

When you were lying on the bench

in the garden
then I went away.

///////////////////////////////////

it’s order is mine,
the bunch of carnation
grows alongside
the other red one.

//////////////////////

It’smidnight

At this, the midnight hour
the walls of the room are rushing

Towards  me
and I have nothing.

It’s midnight
All the trees are in deep slumber,
While the star that fell down
being grasped by

the darkness of the garden.

It’s midnight
friends disappear
in the jungle of my memories
and my dreams are wandering

faraway from me

It’s midnight
I am waiting for someone.

No.

I am waiting for no one?
My hand is sleeping
on my cheek.

///////////////////////////////////////////

The night!

Oh night

 I am here
and you are there,.
Only a row of candles lights separates us.
Oh night!
you who  swept away all the colours
with your deep_ black cloak
and your dark heart.
Whatare you looking for

at the walls of my house?
////////////////////////////////////

oh you the night!
You are searching for my dreams,
and knocking  at the doors of the memory.
The world likes a paper

gone with the tempest

darkness is  a black light

with no sound

except the tree’s distress

and the carnation’s moaning

at the mouth of the night

oh you the  night,
I am there.

And you are there
Only a row of candlelight separates us.

////////////////////////////////////////

Dying at night

I lay down my body
as ifit  fell down
so that the bed puffed up,
to leave the life.

////////////////////////////////////////

I come during the night
withmywetcoat
and my pale face.
I knock on the door
 you do not open it.
I knock on the window
 you donot open it.
And when I leave,
Look at me,
through the curtains,
or
through the keyhole.
///////////////////////////////////

The moonilluminates the room.
Could the candlerespite ?


///////////////////////////////////////////

Escape

the trees of exile are always gray
I’lltake  a roadisn’t mine.
Perhaps I shall use
a cloud as a  chariot
and the wind as a steed.

I will veil all the mirrors
and the glasses
far away from the light
I will store my shape.
No one will be able to see me.
I will change heavens

like a shirt,
and the earth as a trousers.
I will walk barefoot,
Perhaps even naked.
I will not say hello
to any newcomers,
nor will I say Goodbye
to one who is leaving.

I will hide myself
in my garments
and cover my body
with water.

I will illuminate my face
with the darkness
- and I won’t open my door
nor draw the curtains
nor knock on any door
nor take a single step.
and no friend
either will take
one step
towards me.
I will sit alone
in my own company
and celebrate.
I will be happy, so happy
over my sorrow.
I will store
my pain within
my wrinkles.
I will not stare too long
into a newspaper
so it cannot
stare back at me.
I will gather my
fingerprints
and pack away all my foot tracks.
I will choose rainy days

For sightseeing

And accompany the fog

To the bench
I will go to bed  early
and wake up early.
I will give my
footsteps to the earth
thereby
stealing them.
I will make myself papers
that does not reveal their words,
I will light up my night
and turn off my day.
I will poke at
all my wounds, so my pain
will never find rest. .


/////////////////////////////////////////

I am the world’serror

And It’s regret

To be a humanbeing

That’s the greatordeal

And the distress

Whichalwaysrises up

I am a sperm
the Earthwaspregnantwith me
then
itreleased me
 to the scream
the scream
is the echo
of lust
I am a lost star.
theEarthhousedit
and
wrappeditwithrags.
I am
a trace
on  thewater.

///////////////////////////////////

I………
who am I?

I am just
some pieces of a body
in trousers.
I don’t even know
how I’ve become
or who called me
“some pieces”.
I wish
I were the glasses of the lust.
the world:
one half is a tragedy
the other is  a comedy
to bribe
the pain with laugh.

//////////////////////////////////

 You are me

When I love to be a woman

the wind is your messenger
I opened to it
my doors
and windows
I received it
with great joy
with a scent
the wind
told me about me
/////////////////////////////////

I don’t know
how it happened
last night
I saw a woman
got up from you
and a man  from me
they began to embrace each other ...

Facing to me.
/////////////////////////////////////

I resisted cities

Occupied by absence
there is no city to make a dream
and there is no dream rises

From a city
I create cities and imagine

Their inhabitants
I create streets

With their passersby

I create a crowd

And complain
I create a land
and
then pull it rapidly
away beneath the feet
I create hatred
and
then claim love
I create grief
and
then assert love

I create death
and
then I deny with life
I create soul
to rebel against it
with the body

I create sins
and
then claim forgiveness
I create sun
and
then object against it
with the shadow.

///////////////////////////////////////

tomorrow
everything will be ready
I shall wake up early
pack my scattered memories
into the memory’s suitcase
wash away my features
and sneak myself
through
the fences of my life…….
/////////////////////////////////////

every night
you and I undress our garments
and jump into the sea of sleep
swim
dive
but when the death of drowning threatens us
we each make up his own
rescue dream

///////////////////////////////////////////

the sky is my hat
the earth is my shoes
the air
the air
is my clothes.

///////////////////////////////////////////

At that hour
I wished
I were
a stone

Neither stumble

Nor anyone stumbles

Upon me

///////////////////////////////////////


I will steal your umbrella
and lead the rain to you
I wish I were the rain
I could have fallen upon you.

I wish I were the rain
I could have avoided you
with my umbrella.


I became very glad

When I saw you for the first time
I also became sad

She said:
come back as you used to.
When I came back
I did not know
how I had been.

///////////////////////////////////////

A single body
is not enough for
for my pains


The door of the house is a mouth,
that swallows my body daily.

His friends are like flowers,

that come only during the spring.


On the meek paper
the river painted my portrait,
and the wind tore it away.

My shadow moves gently
over my feet,
but it doesn’t know

What darkness conceals
//////////////////////////////////////

Muniam Alfaker

 Poet and writer.

I fled because of the dictatorship in Iraq, first to Morocco, later to Lebanon. I lived in Beirut

from 1978-82. I wrote my first poems in Lebanon.

In 1982 I moved to Damascus, in Syria, where the first collection of poems, “Far away from them”

was published in 1983. A second collection “The different” was edited in 1986.

In 1986 I came to Denmark as a refugee. My collection of poems “Fleeing cloud “ was edited in 1988.

About my writings.

Books edited in Denmark.

Poetry.

Sky på flugt (Fleeing cloud) 1988

Skrig er sjælens heste (Scream is horses of the soul) 1990

Spor på vand (Traces on water) 1991

Klæder uden krop (Clothes without body) 1995 (The book was awarded the same year by the States’ Art foundation)

Sammen (Together) 1998

Visionens bog (The book of vision) 2001

Novel:

My first novel “Mindernes trapez” (The trapeze of memories) was published by Tiderne Skifter

the 15.9.2007. Excellent reviews can be read in Politiken 17.9.07, in Jyllandsposten 18.9.07,

Berlingske Tidende 22.7.07 , and Weekend-Avisen 28.9.07. The novel’s Arabic title is “Café

Marrakesh” and was published 30.10.07 by Almaktab Almasri lelketab in Cairo.

The novel is translated into French by Touria Ikbal.

The Danish translation is by Sejer Andersen, MA in French literature.

Drama and prose.

Barndommens kupé (The compartment of childhood) written in cooperation with Marianne Larsen and was staged in 1994, in Fiolteatret, and appeared also as a story published by Politisk Revy in 1994.

Anthologies.

Kærlighedskort (Postcards of love), 55 love poems by 55 Danish poets, published by Politisk Revy, 2000.

An anthology with translation of poems by 50 Danish poets is underway in collaboration with

librarian May Tchelebi. The first volume will be published by the Egyptian Ministry of Culture in 2008.

My poems are represented in various Danish and foreign anthologies. Here are some of the titles:

Litteratur uden grænser (Literature without borders)

Læs højt historier (Read aloud stories)

Brøndums Encyclopædi (Brøndum’s Encyclopedia)

Digtere fra det 20. århundrede (Poets from the 20.th Century)

Dansklærerforeningens antologi

Fuglevingen (The bird’s wing)

Himlen er min hat (The sky is my hat)

Kunst for livet (Art for life)

Mellem land og land (Between land and land)

Håndbog om indvandrere og flygtninge (Handbook about immigrants and refugees)

Digt om kærlighed (Love poem)

Digt om dagen (Poem at daytime)

Digt om natten (Poem at nighttime)

Translations.

Editor for Assununu Magazine 1991 ‘An hour about Danish Poetry in Arabic’.

A selection of Danish poets in “Akhbar al-Adab”, Cairo 2002.

Currently working on an anthology of modern Danish poetry covering from 1870-2007.

50 poets will be presented for the first time in Arabic.

Biography.

Universal Errors, Muniam Alfaker, editor: Ezzat Ghazzawi. The Ogarit Cultural Center and

Palestinian Writer’s Union, Ramallah, Palestine 2001.

Books appeared in foreign countries.

The collection of poems “Sky på flugt”.

French edition: Nuage sur le départ. Paris, L´Harmattan, 1993.

Norwegian edition : Sky på flukt. Oslo, Ashehoug, 1994.

”Visionens bog”. Norwegian edition, Ashehoug, 2001.

The collection of poems : Retraite d’ún Coeur. Paris, l´Harmattan, 1999.

2.edition: ACM, Marrakesh, 1999.

The collection of poems” Nadiran”. Frenhch edition: ACM, Casablanca, 2001.

Arabic edition: Raslan Publishing Group, Damascus 2000.

Collections of poems published in Cairo.

al-Law’at al-arba’ (The 4 sufferings) 1994.

Hawas khasirah (Lost senses), 1995.

Akhiran (Finally), 2001.

Ra’yi al-‘ayn (The eye’s opinion), 2006.

For the time being a complete edition of my poems is underway.

Collection of poems published in Bagdad.

Ra’yi al-‘ayn (The eye’s opinion), 2005.

Poems published in Casablanca.

Kitab al-ru’ya (The book of vision), 1997

Literary prizes.

Has received several literary prizes, for instance The Danish Library Association’s

literary prize in 1995, and Danish Help for Refugee’s artist of honour in 2003.

Grants from the Danish State’s Fund for art, in 1990-99, 2002, 2003, and 2004.

Chairman for Assununu Association.

Project manager

Since 1992, Assununu has created many poetry events, festivals and exchanges,

which have been very successful.

In Denmark:

- 1996 Danish-Egyptian Cultural Week 23.-30. September, in Copenhagen.

- 1997 Arabic-Danish women’s festival (29. September- 7. October), with the

participation of 22 women artists from several Arabic countries in Copenhagen.

• 1999 Danish-Arabic festival of culture (6. -13. September) in Copenhagen.
• 2000 Danish-Arabic festival of culture. Danes and Arabs. Pictures, words and sound.
• 2001 Danish-Arabic festival of culture. War, peace, tolerance or hate. (23-30. September),

in Copenhagen.

- 2005 Danish-Iraqi festival of culture, attended by the Iraqi vice-minister of culture.

In the Middle-East:

- 1996 A conference in cooperation with the Egyptian Ministry of Culture 15-17 of May.

Presentation of Danish poets and writers at the Opera in Cairo.

- 2002 Danish-Egyptian days of culture 9.-16. December, with Danish and Egyptian poets,

writers and actors, performing in different cultural institutions in Cairo.

- 2004 Danish-Syrian days of culture 5.-12. October with the participation of poets, writers,

a children’s author, a librarian, and two actors.

These events have had a broad media coverage in the Arabic countries with reports and interviews in TV, radio and newspapers.

All these events have only been made possible by the support from the Literature Committee,

The Danish Writer’s Union, CKU, the Municipality of Frederiksberg, and the different

countries Ministries of Culture.

Furthermore I have been invited to a large number of conferences of poetry in many countries

of the Middle East.

There has been a large attention from the medias, and I have had meetings with the ministers

of culture in Tunisia, Egypt, Syria, and Iraq.