In this debut poetry publication by Syrian-American mathematician, musician, and writer M. Hakim, I am reminded of the ways grief acts on language in the most intimate details. In our exchange for editing the poem, Hakim described the ways punctuation is governed not by traditional grammar, but by associations of grief: sentences pairing with each other like ghosts to former inhabitations, spectral residues of once-restricted sites like Qasioun, the gifting of an oud, and the speculative resonances between this poem and Nizar Qabbani. With the fall of Assad opening more space for Syrians and the diaspora to return to their land, to tell the stories held hostage by regimes now past, it is with deep reverence that Mizna thanks Hakim for trusting us to publish this stunning poetry debut.

—George Abraham, Editor-at-Large

walls with ears
looking with eyes that aren’t mine
am i the enemy of the enemies of my father? 

—M. Hakim

the tart air from Damascus 

الهواء الرماني من الشام

i have dreamed of Damascus as long as i have dreamed

the rose
the jasmine and ful
 the stone black and white
memories of those who live only in my own memories

silence
walls with ears
looking with eyes that aren’t mine
am i the enemy of the enemies of my father? 

i have dreamed of Damascus as long as i have dreamed
the distorted dreams of exile and longing

will i hear the voices of an angel in the straight street
                                 was she carried away by the Barada when it flowed?
                                                if i sleepwalk up Qasioun
                                                               will she be there with the oud
                                                                                    she doesn’t remember bringing for me?
                                                                                                   will the storyteller start at last without fear?
                                                                                                                        will the cells of my blood become green?

what will you do to me, Damascus?

M. Hakim (b. 1991) is a Syrian-American mathematician and musician from Texas, now based in the northeast.

Cover photo from Wikimedia (Creative Commons)

The post “the tart air from Damascus”—New Syrian Poetry appeared first on Mizna.