A brief critical review on your poetry -By: Sherif Okasha

A brief critical review on your poetry
Written by: Sherif Okasha - Egypt

May I send a honey-dewed morrow greeting to the one who wrote the most marvelous poem I’ve ever read. Actually I read your poem "The glittering of the shiver" in English and Arabic several times and each time a sweet ,unique, elevated ,indescribable shivering glitter creeps into my soul. Your poetry is glamorous both aesthetically and technically. If you don’t mind, I allow myself here to make a brief critical review of your poetic talent. First of all, I appreciate the fact that you write your poetry in Arabic and back translate it into English. All research in cognitive psychology asserts that our imagery is most profoundly formed in our native language because as you of course are aware our feelings, imagination..Etc are affected by our culture of which language is a subpart. So the back translation, once done effortful and accurately, as yours was, will definitely convey the original "tangle" of thoughts that got enmeshed in the native linguistic mind of the poet (this is not! of course to say that one cannot write original poetry in his/her second language).

Second, your imagery proves my theory about the ideal image: The best imagery is formed by establishing a direct link between the inner world and the real, concrete world without the mediating agent of language. So fertile imagination will be the product of establishing a link ,not between the traditional "figurative" level and our perceptions ,but between our perceptions and the real world. Your vivid images clearly demonstrate this faculty of yours.

I hope I have not bored you with this rather academic discussion of your extremely promising poetic flair. As for me, I’m a linguist by vocation, literary translator and writer by avocation! Thanks so much for your comment on my blog. Did you really find my translation of Nizar interesting?. It is my own translation. I did it about 12 years ago in my last university year. It was my habit since that time to translate great Arabic lyrics into English, but due to a general lack of interest among Arab readers and publishers thereof, I gave up the whole thing. Really your comment encouraged me to resume again, if a poetic connoisseur like you will care to read such translations. Sorry for the long email, I’ll follow closely your poetic creations and I hope y always notify me thereof. I have some shy attempts at writing English poetry, which you will find at: Egyptianbloggers.blogspot.com

I'll be happy for further exchanges and comments in the future
Best Luck
Sherif Okasha – Egypt

Twins of poem - written and translated by: Ibaa Ismail

Twins of poems
By: Ibaa Ismail

إثنان في قصائد

شعر إباء اسماعيل
قمران

قمران يشتعلانِ
في حضن الغيومِ
كنبضة ولْهى
جريئةْ......
في الشعر يغتسلان من تعبٍ
وفي قلبيهما،
تشدو نبوءةْ......


Two moons

Two moons blaze
in the lap of clouds
like a fascinated, daring pulse.
They wash their exhaustion with poetry
and in their heart,
A prophecy chants!

سؤالان

كيف اخترقتْ قدماكَ
خمسة عشر صخرةً
وجدارْ.......
وسكنت دمي وقصائدي ؟!........
كيف قطعتِ خمس عشرة كوكباً
ونثرتِ آهاتَكِ
على شموسه الملتهبةْ؟!




Two questions

How could your feet,
pass through fifteen rocks and walls
and reside in my poems and blood?
How could you cross fifteen planets
and scatter your sighs,
over his burning suns?


صورتان

صفحةٌ من خيالْ
عكستْ صورتينِ
ومرآةَ حبٍّ
بهيِّ الكمالْ............
وتعانقت الصورتانِ
كأنهما كوكبٌ داخلٌ
في شظايا هلالْ !.....


Two Images

A page of imagination
reflected two images
and a mirror of love
that is a perfect splendor.
The two images embraced
as if they were a planet
passing through
the fragments of a crescent!


فراشتان

فراشتكِ الناريةُ
تنشر جناحيها اللهبْ.....
وثمار جسدها تنمو
كزنا بق الغيمِ
وتهبط فوق نهر الصخبْ
وهو يمخر عباب ضفّتين ْ
وفراشتُك الناريةُ تهمي
كأنها روحٌ وجسد ٌ
يموجانِ في سماء السنينْ ........


Two butterflies

Your fiery butterfly spreads
its flaming wings
and the blossom of its body flourishes
like the lilies of the clouds.
And he plows the torrent of two banks,
and your fiery butterfly flows
as if it is a spirit and a body
soaring in the sky of years!




طفلان

كانا باقةََََََ أسماك سحريّةْ
تزهر في حضنِ الأزهارْ......
عِلماً أنّ النار،
ترسل في الفجر فراشاتٍ
بحريًةْ
كانا طفلين ِ وحلماً وسحابْ
عِلماً أن الشعرَ هو الحلمُ
وأنّهما كنزٌ لا يفنى فيه الشعرُ
ولا يفنى فيه الأحبابْ........
فاشتعلت أنفاسهما أسئلةً
في قاع الحريّهْ ........


Two Children

They were a bouquet of magic fish,
blossoming in the lap of flowers.
Though the fire sends navy butterflies
at dawn.
There were two children, a dream and a cloud
where poetry is a dream
and they were the treasure
where poetry never decays
and lovers never fade away.
Their breath ignited questions,
emanating from the inner depth of freedom!