T3 শারদ সংখ্যা ২০২২ || তব অচিন্ত্য রূপ || বিশেষ সংখ্যায় Inam Hussain Begg Mullick


For Palestine, Syria and Yemen

Resist, My People, Resist Them
Resist, my people, resist them.

In Jerusalem, I dressed my wounds and breathed my sorrows

And carried the soul in my palm

For an Arab Palestine.

I will not succumb to the “peaceful solution,”

Never lower my flags

Until I evict them from my land.

I cast them aside for a coming time.

Resist, my people, resist them.

Resist the settler’s robbery

And follow the caravan of martyrs.

Shred the disgraceful constitution

Which imposed degradation and humiliation

And deterred us from restoring justice.

They burned blameless children;

As for Hadil, they sniped her in public,

Killed her in broad daylight.

Resist, my people, resist them.

Resist the colonialist’s onslaught.

Pay no mind to his agents among us

Who chain us with the peaceful illusion.

Do not fear doubtful tongues;

The truth in your heart is stronger,

As long as you resist in a land

That has lived through raids and victory.

So Ali called from his grave:

Resist, my rebellious people.

Write me as prose on the agarwood;

My remains have you as a response.

Resist, my people, resist them.

Resist, my people, resist them.

FROM Resist, My People, Resist Them, Dareen Tatour


No tranquil until the olives grow again,
the sun is a gentle guest — sovereignty’s crest —
in the kitchens, courtyards and lanes,
of martyrs and children — softest rain.


The womb is trust and the mother is questioned,
Goliath is David, and David, Goliath;
Jesus dismantles landmines and bombs; Bedouin children
sleep, play, pray; Hussain tends to watermelon fields.


Sun amid petioles,
Mellow silvern scintillas,
Messianic chirrup;

Soul’s brume, waking latitudes,
Umbra, pastel ambuscades.


The songster jazz bird triumphs in garden and big city sky,

The morning gaz gleams with the river’s freedom reply.

The cornet is a vast, glorious eagle in Allah’s room,

The jazz bird’s golden sweat, creation’s astral perfume.


Oksana, you and I love across worlds and ages, of the same essence,

Adam and Eve—orientalism, upheavals, Carl Jung and transcendence.

Your eyes and gestures, graceful Russian proverbs from dream lips,

You analyze the hostilities; and fleets of sailing, immortal ships.


The parrot and the crow awaken to victory and superflowers,

The world is aglow with love, hares rejoice in brilliant Jesus hours.

Tender leaves of the cosmos, a Sufi paints the mystic day with calligraphic prayer,

The sleeves of the saints are green, I weave my breath on the Persian Ney, beloved’s doctrinaire

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