Qana

In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political I must listen to the birds And in order to hear the birds The warplanes must be silent - Marwan Makhoul

🎨 : Nuri Lyem

لكي أكتب شعراً غير سياسي يجب أن أصغي الى العصافير ولكي أسمع العصافير يجب أن تصمت الطائرات - مروان مخول

The Samaritans and their conflict with the Jews

Who Are the Samaritans?

The Samaritans are a small religious minority living in the occupied Palestinian territories, specifically on Mount Gerizim in Nablus, and in the city of Holon in Israel. They consider themselves the true descendants of the Israelites who remained in the Holy Land when the Jews were exiled to Babylon in the 6th century BCE. They believe that they never deviated from the original faith, unlike the Jews who, according to their view, altered the religion after their return from the Babylonian exile.

Samaritan Religious Beliefs

The Samaritans only follow the Samaritan Torah, which differs from the Jewish Torah in several points, and they reject the Talmud, the main source of Jewish law after the Torah. For Samaritans, Mount Gerizim in Nablus is the holiest site, and they believe it is the true place of worship for God, not the Temple Mount in Jerusalem as the Jews believe. They view the Jews as having strayed from the true path when they chose Jerusalem as the center of their worship, leading to a deep religious divide between the two communities.

The Roots of the Hostility Between the Samaritans and Jews

The conflict between the Jews and Samaritans dates back thousands of years. Jews believe that the Samaritans are not pure Israelites but a mix of the remnants of the ancient Israelites and pagan peoples who settled in the area after the Assyrian conquest. In contrast, the Samaritans believe that they are the true Israelites, and the Jews have distorted the religion and introduced incorrect teachings. This hostility became so intense that the Jews in ancient times considered Samaritan food impure and rejected intermarriage and interaction with them.

The Conflict in Ancient Times

During the Persian period, the Jews tried to impose their control over the Samaritans and prevent them from building their temple on Mount Gerizim, leading to fierce conflicts between the two groups. During the reign of Alexander the Great, the Samaritans gained some privileges, but with the arrival of the Hasmoneans, the Jews persecuted them, and their temple on Mount Gerizim was destroyed.

The Samaritan Situation in the Roman and Islamic Periods

Under Roman rule, the Samaritans faced great persecution, especially after their failed revolts against the Roman Empire, which led to the killing and displacement of many of them. With the rise of Christianity, they became further marginalized, as the Christians did not consider them Jews, nor did they regard them as part of their faith. During the Islamic era, the Samaritans were granted some protection as "People of the Book," but they remained a minority community.

The Samaritans Today... Between Challenge and Survival

Today, the number of Samaritans is around 800 people, making them one of the smallest religious communities in the world. Some hold Israeli citizenship, while others live in the West Bank under Palestinian authority. Despite their small number, they continue to hold onto their traditions, language, and celebrate their unique holidays, such as the Samaritan Passover, according to their distinct calendar.

The Samaritans are a living testament to the religious and political history of the region, carrying an ancient legacy of conflict and isolation, yet striving to preserve their identity despite the political and religious transformations that have taken place in the Holy Land. Do you think the hostility between the Samaritans and Jews still persists today?

@Hayahbook

Granada

At the entrance of Alhambra was our meeting, How sweet is a rendezvous not thought of before. Two soft black eyes in perfect frames enticing, Generating after-effects from the past ages afore. Are you a Spaniard? I asked her enquiring, She said: Granada is the city where I was born. Granada! Seven centuries awoke from slumbering, In her eyes, after the clothing of sleep they wore. And Umayyad, with flags lifted high, flying, Their horses streaming by, unnumbered they pour. How strange is history, how is it to me returning? A beautiful granddaughter, from my pedigree of yore. With a Damascene face, through it I was seeing, The eyelids of Sheba and the neck of Suad once more. I saw a room in our old house with a clearing, Where mother used to spread my cushions on the floor. And the Jasmine inlaid in its stars were shining, With the golden singing pool, a picture of splendor. Damascus, where is it? I said: you will be seeing It in your flowing hair, a river of golden black ore. In your Arab face, in your mouth still storing The suns of my country from the days of Arab lore. In the perfume of Generalife with waters gleaming, Its Arabian Jasmine, its sweet basil and citron odour. She came with me and her hair behind her flowing, Like luscious ears of grain in an unharvested meadow. The long earrings on her neck were glittering, Like Christmas Eve candles that sparkle and glow. Behind her like a child I walked, she was guiding, And behind me, history, piles of ashes row after row. The decoration of Alhambra I almost hear pulsing, And the ornaments on the roof, I hear their call grow. She said: Alhambra! Pride of my ancestors glowing, Read on its walls my glories that shine and show. Her glory! I anointed an open wound festering, And in my heart anointed another that refused to go. If only my lovely granddaughter had a way of knowing, The ones she meant were my ancestors of long, long ago. When I bid her adieu, when I knew I was going, I embraced in her Ṭāriq ibn Ziyād, that Arab hero.

-Nizar Qabbani

I tell my neighbor: Come and spend the night with me, I have figs, and almonds, and sugar. We sing, because you are lonely, And singing will ease your longing. I have a home, and a small area of land, So I am safe now. The land of my country is land from heaven, And on it sleeps the painful time. I tell our house: If I am alone, And snow and cold blows, My house is as fire to me, And the winter passes, friendly as a field of roses.

-Al Rahbani Brothers

My Brother

I will never forgive my twin brother after abandoning me for a whole seven minutes inside my mother’s womb.

He left me there alone, terrified of the dark, floating like an astronaut in that viscous liquid, listening to how on the other side they were kissing and adoring him.

Those were the seven longest minutes of my life, and which destined him to be the first born and my mother’s favorite. After that, I would always make sure to leave places before Pablo; the bedroom, the house, school, the theater… even if it meant missing the end of a movie.

One day I got distracted and my brother left before I did, and while he was watching me with his adorable smile, a car came by and hit him.

When my twin brother died, my mother grabbed his body and yelled my name. I have not corrected her since then...

I died and my brother lived.

My Brother – Rafael Noboa

Self-taught

The failed echo will help me And the tyrannical secrets inspire me! Times of resounding anxiety And a storm hugs me tightly Here the cities of contradiction contain me The countryside of art precedes it I am drawn to the current by self-taught people My heart is steadfast in the war alone

And despite the hatred I prepare for the feverish blindness!

Sakina Al-Sharif

You say that I'm a masterpiece

that’s worth a thousand stars, a treasure, and that I am the most beautiful painting you had ever seen.

You build me a palace of illusion, in which I can only live in for a few moments.

Then, I return back to reality all alone with nothing but a few words.

Painting by - Edward Povey

Jerusalem

I wept until my tears were dry I prayed until the candles flickered I knelt until the floor creaked I asked about Mohammed and Christ Oh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophets The shortest path between earth and sky Oh Jerusalem, the citadel of laws A beautiful child with fingers charred and downcast eyes You are the shady oasis passed by the Prophet Your streets are melancholy Your minarets are mourning You, the young maiden dressed in black Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrow A big tear wandering in the eye Who will halt the aggression On you, the pearl of religions? Who will wash your bloody walls? Who will safeguard the Bible? Who will rescue the Quran? Who will save Christ? Who will save man? Oh Jerusalem my town Oh Jerusalem my love Tomorrow the lemon trees will blossom And the olive trees will rejoice Your eyes will dance The migrant pigeons will return To your sacred roofs And your children will play again And fathers and sons will meet On your rosy hills My town The town of peace and olives.

-Nizar Qabbani

Neşe

Gittiğim her yere neşemi hep yanımda taşıdım. Sevincimi en çok çevremdekiler sever, biliyorum çünkü; Hüzünlü sessizlikler ve çökük gözler insanlara kendi küçük acılarını hatırlatır. Son zamanlarda, "neşem" yavaş yavaş kayboluyor. Bir süre konuşmayı kestim, ruhum yorgundu. İnsanların sustuğunda ortadan kaybolduğu söylenir. Keşke bir iki kelime söyleseydim, saçma da olsa, çünkü kendi sessizliğimde boğulmak üzereyim gibi geliyor.