“If only men were stones.” If only I could become a stone…
Whenever my gaze wanders, do these clouds, one after another, send me fleeing?
When a sparrow scratches at the horizon, do I search for a god to worship?
Before each bright guitar, does my spirit surrender to its own ruin, carried away in the ships’ foaming wake—
When a woman discovers her own womanhood, does the glow at my waist seize me in its light and burn me?
When the malva withers and the bird cries from its branch, am I struck ill, or do I awaken: oh, my homeland!
Do I ignite amid the almond blossoms and, with every blaze, am I the smoke, a scarf?
Does the north wind tear me apart, does the rain erase my face?
“If only men were stones.” If only I could become a stone…
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From Darwish: Poems — published with the publisher’s permission for Everyman’s Library. © 2026 Mahmoud Darwish
