RSS

Category Archives: Poems by Moazzam Begg

Voyage du Retour

Il commence sans freins,
Se termine par une capture sans fins,
ce voyage.

Allongé dans ma cellule les yeux ouverts,
avec une joie et des sourires feints,
Je vois ma liberté consumée, mon heure venue -
Les larmes font déborder le vase de ma peine;
Ma maison est une cage aux barreaux d’acier
où le faux devient vrai, où les rêves sont brisés,
les espoirs tabassés,
où d’un nouveau statut on se voit gratifié!

L’ironie de tout ça – la détention et le reste:
Etre si petit et se tenir si haut.
Des années de larmes, des journées de labeur,
il ne reste que la peur, au bon plaisir des tyrans.
Une ordination qui expirera sûrement
sans tarder.
Mais en attendant, cette farce on doit l’endurer
seul.

Maintenant que l’on a bien appris sa leçon:
Que “la patience est une vertu”
Et que la vertu est forgée de fer,
Alors la poésie est mise en mouvement
(peut-être même sera-t-elle appréciée).

Encore et encore sur le papier j’écris,
Sachant quoi mais jamais quand -
là où les rêves commencent et les cauchemars
s’achèvent -
Je rentrerai chez moi auprès de ceux que j’aime.

-Moazzam Begg, Former Guantanamo Detainee

Read this poem in English

 
 

Tags: , , , ,

Homeward Bound

Begins this journey without reins,
Ends in capture without aims;
Now lying in the cell awake,
with merriment and smiles all fake:

Freedom is spent, time is up
Tears have rent my sorrow’s cup;
Home is a cage, and cage is steel,
Thus manifest reality’s unreal.

Dreams are shattered, hopes are battered,
Yet with new status one is flattered!
The irony of it – detention and all;
Be so small, stand so tall.

Years of tears and days of toil
Are now but fears and tyrant’s spoil;
Ordainment has surely come to pass,
But endure alone one must this farce.

Now ‘patience is virtue’ taught,
And virtue is of iron wrought;
So poetry is in motion set
(perhaps, with appreciation met)

Still the papers do I pen,
Knowing what, but never when
As dreams begin, and nightmares end
I’m homeward bound to beloved tend.

-Moazzam Begg, Former Guantanamo Detainee

Lisez ce poème en français

 
 

Tags: , , , ,

Dark World

 

A rhyme to passionless soul excite,
Words from heart and mind I write;
If reason can the flame ignite,
Then all the world I so invite

Maybe that the words I cite
Are unworthy of such a fight,
Yet error’s margin is but slight
So I forge ahead and verse recite:

Severity, from out of spite,
Functioning to cause a fright,
Occasioning, for some, delight,
Is violating human right

Tormenting strain is at a height,
Darkness blotting out sunlight,
All has disappeared, but night,
Eyes have shed their tears from light

Liberty, that’s borne of flight,
Is evident in avian kite,
But rays of sun are much too bright,
And gazing up just hurts the sight

Wishing not to seem contrite,
Or to violence incite,
Someone hearing this just might
Relieve us from this wretched plight

Awaiting anxiously respite,
The noose is closing in too tight.
Proceeding on ahead, despite
The guiltless beings they indict

Life is drained by parasite,
Inflicting pain as from a bite;
End is near, but not just quite…
My world is dark, and theirs – is white

-Moazzam Begg, 8th February 2004
Camp Echo (Solitary Confinement), Guantanamo Bay

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on April 29, 2012 in Habsiyya, Poems by Moazzam Begg

 

Tags: , , , ,

The Dagger’s Hilt

The pursuits of men are in disrepute
And the quest for wealth demands an encore,
But the dominance sought is so absolute
That excuses are conjured and declared is war

The region of conflict is centred in Asia:
Home of ‘Black Gold’ – birth-place of Man;
Confronting a barrier requiring erasure:
Onward they press and battle Islam

So combat is waged against a religion,
Provoking a spate of ignorant rancour;
But if observed from another position
The stage is prepared to settle a score:

Repeating itself – just like the Crusades-
History bears witness to sacred aggression;
For those in denial the memory fades,
Whilst “Freedom’s” champions wreak murderous session

The method’s not new – just time and place–
The “Savage” renamed without reservation;
Just follow footsteps, but when you retrace
Inquire: “What become of the Indian Nation?”

Or recall, if you will, in past century,
Africa’s children imported by wave;
Brought to you courtesy “Land of the Free”,
That ensured liberty (except for the slave!)

If armies are stationed, as we are told,
Throughout the world, in pursuance of peace,
Then what has fashioned this new strangle-hold,
Where missiles are hurled with violent increase?

Attacks on the air on September eleven
Kindled once more sweet vengeance’s flame;
Never forgotten or ever forgiven,
Those uninvolved must carry the blame

Like prisoners of conscience, raised to new heights,
Few are made present by merit alone;
Confined to cage, deprived any rights,
Laws are rewritten and oppression condoned

Years have elapsed in dull isolation,
Yet who dares admit the compounded error;
The will has collapsed from sheer desolation:
The result shall emit with unbounded terror

Hilts of the daggers, struck five inches deep,
Protrude from our backs, I fear to confess:
But “As ye hath sown, so shall ye reap”,
Retracting an inch, they call it “Progress!”

Written in Camp Echo Guantanamo Bay January 2005
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 24, 2011 in Habsiyya, Poems by Moazzam Begg

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

 
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 249 other followers