The Pudding People.
An Egyptian poet and writer.
The writer and famous Argentine poet Jorge Luis Burgess wonders:
It's the river that gets away from me, but I'm the river! But I am the tiger! But I'm the fire, the world, unfortunately, is me, the world is Burgess.
After all this long and deep experience Burgess finds his shock, and shocks all of us with him, that the world he tried to monitor and interpret is just Burgess himself, and he states in his book that: "In the last pages of the book, I spoke of a man trying to paint a picture of the universe. But he discovered at the moment of his death that he painted his face!"
This fact, which seemed to him and shocked him after all this trouble; the great Arab poet, Habib al-Saigh, since he began with poetry, when he realized that individual self and understanding were the most valuable way of poetic creation and the formulation of the world to be self-inflicted and embedded out, where the uniqueness of the whole is to find that his own poetic experience is self-made and philosophical.
It was perhaps the most objective reason for his philosophers and critics when they called him obsessive and vague.
It confirms its first view and philosophy of its second religion, published in 1981 with the title of a "final statement of the spokesman himself", and here it confirms that it is not possible for them to express the poetry from the very point of view, where it is unique that it is unique to carry the poetry and descend the human being, leaving the alien behind to express and simulate it. «I'm busy at the height of the wise unit.» I found that this sentence was the beginning of the poem and that what I wrote in the last two years should be thrown in the trash can.[i])
It is my understanding that the culmination of the unit is the real way of understanding the human person, so that all that has been done in the trash can begin the journey of capture of the real understanding of man and poetry.
That philosophy, and the fact that the Sage realizes, has made us look at a leading poet, capable of modernizing in the Arab poetry, and here I don't want to say just the U.S.A., it could be given the pride of the great home, but it could be taken away by the Arab poem that was one of its own glorious and insurgent knights.
For example, he wrote the vertical and operational poem and the poem, stating that he did not reject a particular form and did not win a particular committee, saying: «Game.»So I'm trying to be new, to say what nobody said before me, and no one else can say, and there's a permanent experiment, a new form and a new content, so I write the three vertical poems, an activation poem, a boob poem, and that's important.[ii]).
This understanding made a young lover not tyres, but he seeks to enforce the essence of the hair, which he himself cannot accept to be flawed in swallowing others, he asks himself with her questions, lakes, sorrows, and her own hopes to go from inside to shape his world.
"I base my questions in the void,
I'm falling into love monsters.
I bury my questions in my garden,
My guys got a tree.
There's nothing but the end.
Let me at least.
Once, when I was inspired by death,
I see what's not seen.
Alone.
Lost like evil chapters.
The legacy is the end of civilizations.
Bring me to the grave witness to what I sing!
Alone.
Hand is trying to poison me again.
And running towards the coast.»I'm sorry.
The Sage lover believed that uniqueness was the only way for the universe to be crowned with poetry, when he said, "Not to feel, but to be certain, that I was alone; I would not have published hair and I said I was a poet, in poets, no middle area. Either be a single poet or not.[iii]).
The control of the poetry of the Sage Habib was not like the Narcissist, but it was the mirror that the universe and the hair must look at to find itself; rather, the death of the Sage lover was weaker than human and artistic literacy, he realized, reconciled with, challenged and saw it. Before he takes a boyfriend in his long absence, which says, "writing an exercise on death, I expect to die suddenly one day, and that's an exercise on death, writing is just like love."[iv]).
“I don't get anything.
I don't win the mystery this evening.
And I don't pretend to be in love.
He knows lovers.
In their names, one.
And I don't fit anything.
And not me, but I waited for your quiet.
Ever since your lightning slipped.
Since my blood was finished.
In my mirrors.
Or in my cells.
I'm far away.
And I don't meet you because you're closer to me.[v]).
There is no evidence of his death-consistency, made clearer than his immortal religion, my name, my son, who, as if he was his father and the one who brought him to the universe, showed that he was his son, because his place was bigger than that of immortality.
He also said nothing.
I've beennd to the immortal. I have to sit in it.
And sleep or reading or regret.
Or by inventing pants.
Or the lion pack in the woods.
Or by confusing a woman who dragged me into the clouds and the air, shouting and spreading.
In the face of eternity.
And by dying...
Even to the immortal, my first.
I wanted to say, "And even to the horse you deserve me, boy?"
The young lover was not far from his nation, civilization and home, but the nation and places are subject to self-laws, attachment, understanding from the inside and self-absorbed; not to monitor and express them as traces and routes before others touch or paint and emulate them; it creates them in the eyes and instils them from their dark spirits.
When the question of Palestine is dealt with, for example, we found how the Assembly and the national were self-sustaining, and how personal sadness and illusion were the engines of each major issue.
"What the recent wars have produced
Say it. !
What have the recent wars produced?
Let's call you my light grasp.
I'll leave it side.
And I fight for all Palestine.
And beautiful signs.
And I love all the tribe girls.
I will fight for all Palestine.[vi]).
Identity is creative -- as the poet and great thinker Adonis sees -- to live, think and express as you yourself and others at the same time, to look like everyone at one moment. In creativity, human beings are an unfinished project, poetry is not a foreigner, and it is a dimension and characteristic dimension, and the other is not necessarily national affiliation, heritage, collective identity or human identity.[vii]
And that's a big meaning that a young lover is quoting:
“In his life, since he was born,
He only sees his death.
Springs. And window glass and trains...
And when he finally died,
He found out what he's been seeing for as long as his life is not.
Death!
Remember and laugh. ..
He gets his hands on his face.
"Word paralysis and laughing."
A young lover refused to diarrhea in poetry, so I must say: there's a fact that might destroy the spread of what we shouldn't publish. If we look at his poetic achievement, he will be found by the spokesperson for himself, the protagonist, the victor of the human being, the so-called patriot, and the demarcator and guide him to form the world. Peace to his soul on the high.
[i](Saig lover: special meeting with Gate News, Cairo, Egypt, Wednesday, 21 August/2019 – 10:00 M
[ii] Same.
[iii] I'm alone.··· Union newspaper, Emirates, 24 July
[iv] Habib, al-Saigh: dialogue with poet in Nzuye magazine, Amman: 1 October 1997
[v] Hair work – Habib al-Saigh – Part I – Union of Books and Literature of the United Arab Emirates – 2012m – 1 – p. 58
[vi] Habib al-Saigh: poetry work, part one, United Arab Emirates Book and Literature Federation – 2012m – 1 – p. 43
[vii] Adonis: Hair Policy, Studies in Contemporary Arab Poetry, Arts House, 1, 1985M, p. 69 and 70
