Wednesday, September 07, 2005
"What once was here is now gone"
I was reminded of Choman Hardi's poem, The Greening Mountains, about home and landscape after destruction, as it becomes clear that that sorrow must await so many survivors of Katrina.
I’ve been meaning for ages to write about this wonderful poet whom I was lucky enough to meet at a conference on translation last year. Choman and her family came to Britain as refugees from Iraqi Kurdistan. She’s long been publishing poetry in Kurdish and her first book in English came out last year. Her work is exquisite, unflinching and accessible. Her commitment to her homeland and to the Kurdish immigrant community, racial integration and understanding in this country, her openness and lively sharing of her work at many workshops and festivals make her a poet who has a real impact. She deals in war, destruction, exile and the recent very tenuous renewal of hope for Kurdistan, and in everyday lives – especially women’s -before, during and after war, destruction and exile.
¿Para qué poetas?, asks Ernesto, fresh from watching the news. Well… ¶ 4:56 pm
I was reminded of Choman Hardi's poem, The Greening Mountains, about home and landscape after destruction, as it becomes clear that that sorrow must await so many survivors of Katrina.
I’ve been meaning for ages to write about this wonderful poet whom I was lucky enough to meet at a conference on translation last year. Choman and her family came to Britain as refugees from Iraqi Kurdistan. She’s long been publishing poetry in Kurdish and her first book in English came out last year. Her work is exquisite, unflinching and accessible. Her commitment to her homeland and to the Kurdish immigrant community, racial integration and understanding in this country, her openness and lively sharing of her work at many workshops and festivals make her a poet who has a real impact. She deals in war, destruction, exile and the recent very tenuous renewal of hope for Kurdistan, and in everyday lives – especially women’s -before, during and after war, destruction and exile.
¿Para qué poetas?, asks Ernesto, fresh from watching the news. Well… ¶ 4:56 pm
