User:とある白い猫/Sandbox 1: Difference between revisions
Content deleted Content added
corrected geographic name. |
Brobeans14 (talk | contribs) Hittin it deep asf |
||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
When you beat that pu$$y up. Until she can't walk. |
|||
{{copy edit|date=August 2015}} |
|||
'''Moncef Hussein Mezghanni''' is one of Tunisia’s most popular poets. He was born in 1954 in Sfax, the main city of South Tunisia. At the age of 20, he graduated as a teacher and started his work at Tunisian primary schools, then left teaching after 8 years, taking a position at the Ministry of Education. |
|||
Settling in Tunis enabled young Mezghanni to take part in the various cultural activities that animated this cultural hub of Tunisia. |
|||
Mezghanni has gradually established himself as a literary and cultural journalist. Since the 1980s, he has participated in numerous poetry festivals around the Arab world and Europe, encouraging him to organize various poetry events and found poetry clubs back in Tunis. He received many honorary titles and poetry prizes, including the [http://www.medal-medaille.com/order-cultural-merit-knight-ordre-mrite-culturel-chevalier-p-11769.html National Order of Cultural Merit]. He also served as the director of the Tunisian House of Poetry since 1995. |
|||
Mezghanni’s oeuvre comprises a variety of poetry collections in addition to many epic poems, lyric poems both in standard Arabic and in Tunisian dialect, short stories for children, and a number of plays. Among his most successful publications, are The Wind Bow (1989), The Wind Horse and the Iron Bird (1991), Grains (1992) and Love Affairs (2003). |
|||
Mezghanni has often declared that his first poetic principle is to innovate and never imitate. “Writing,” he claims, “is to try one’s best to avoid rewriting the works of one’s predecessors, which is a strenuous task indeed.” Mezghanni’s rather eccentric style is marked by a high degree of humor and is adorned with poetic conceits. Later in his career, he added rhythm and musicality to humor and produced a very innovative verse that was greatly appreciated in the Middle East and the [[Persian Gulf]]. In his preface to The Blackbird of the Captive City, Mezghanni exclaims: “How poetry without music is like an elephant bereft of its trunk!” |
|||
For Mezghanni, poetry is and should always be oral in the first place. Poetry is made to be recited and “reciting poetry requires composing the poem with the voice.” As a foretaste for English speakers, the Fair’s English Page translated one of Mezghanni’s poems: |
|||
'''Selected Works''' |
|||
The Poet and the Widow |
|||
1 |
|||
A woman has become a widow |
|||
In this new Tunisia |
|||
She found tears in her eyes |
|||
And in her broken heart |
|||
A desolate tune |
|||
In her mouth she didn’t find |
|||
A poem to immortalize the deceased |
|||
She stood at an eloquent poet’s door |
|||
Asking for an elegy |
|||
Of his fine verse |
|||
2 |
|||
He started by asking her |
|||
About her name so beautiful as a dream |
|||
“Halima is my name” |
|||
He asked: |
|||
- Did the deceased leave any fortune or money? |
|||
He said: |
|||
- My husband was a civil servant |
|||
- Did he have in this world any house? |
|||
She said: |
|||
- We’re tenants above the neighbor’s |
|||
- Did his hand reach out for the bribes of coward, thieving citizens? |
|||
She insisted: |
|||
- He died clean-handed |
|||
- Had he behind a foul-mouthed labor union? |
|||
She said: |
|||
- He had a chaste tongue and an upright discourse |
|||
He asked: |
|||
- Was he muscular? |
|||
She swore: |
|||
- Skinny he lived and skinny he died |
|||
He asked: |
|||
- Had he any followers? |
|||
She said: |
|||
- He never was part of a party |
|||
Never attended a meeting |
|||
He answered: |
|||
- I don’t have any other questions for you |
|||
And here’s my poem at the ready |
|||
She thanked him: |
|||
- Read your poem oh finest poet of ours |
|||
3 |
|||
He made her hear the orders: |
|||
- Summon your forces Halima |
|||
And save your tears |
|||
For tears are salty water |
|||
Don’t let the roses on your cheeks fade |
|||
Be sure |
|||
Your husband was the most stupid man I saw in the government |
|||
He didn’t understand the system |
|||
Gather your will and go to his grave |
|||
Tell him: |
|||
“I am the deceased*” |
|||
And thank a generous death that rescued you |
|||
From your calamitous husband |
|||
*The word in Arabic also means “blessed.” |
|||
[[Category:Tunisian poets]] |
|||
[[Category:People from Sfax]] |
|||
Revision as of 09:55, 7 August 2015
When you beat that pu$$y up. Until she can't walk.