Memoir of theMiddle East;Scent of dreams
中东回忆录;梦之味;
I Was Born There, I Was Born Here. By MouridBarghouti.
《我在那里出生,我出生在这里》,穆里德巴尔古提著;
Certain images reappear in all recent Palestinianliterature. Mangled olive groves, the trees, liketheir owners, uprooted; cardamom-scented coffee,its fragrance percolating through the Palestinianexile; endless waiting, daily to cross checkpoints,every year to return home.
最近在巴勒斯坦的所有文学中重新出现了某些影像。遭到乱砍的橄榄树丛,就象它们的主人一样,这些树木被连根拔起;豆蔻香味的咖啡,它的香味浸透了流亡的巴勒斯坦人;无尽的等待,每天都穿过检查站,每年都返回家园。
Mourid Barghouti evokes them all in his memoir, I Was Born There, I Was Born Here,which continues the story begun in his 2003 work, I Saw Ramallah. Driving to Jericho, hepasses fields of olive trees, uprooted and thrown over under the open sky like dishonouredcorpses, the fields around them an open collective grave. Crossing the border fromJordan, at the threshold of Palestine, he must wait for hours at checkpoints where sweatoozes with sticky insistence and the air is fried. These images lose none of their poignancyor power in this familiarity. Instead they distil the Palestinian experience of exile intosomething real.
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