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Anonymous asked:
I’m a lover of the art form you are. How much chaos did it take to paint such graceful art?
Eh, just a lil bit
Noticing how many of my dreams are lost, I stop myself demanding too much water from the mirage. I confess I have grown tired of long dreams that take me back to the point where they begin and I end, without us ever meeting in the morning. I will make my dreams from my daily bread to avoid disappointment. For dreaming is not seeing the unseen, in the form of an object of desire, but not knowing you are dreaming. However, you have to know how to wake up. Waking up is when the real arises from the imaginary in a revised version, when poetry returns safely from the heavenly realms of elevated language to an earth that doesn’t resemble its poetic image. Can I choose my dreams, so that I do not dream of the unattainable, so that I become a different person who dreams that he can tell the difference between a live man who thinks he is dead and a dead man who thinks he is alive? I am alive, and when I’m not dreaming I say:” I didn’t dream, and it did me no harm.”
— Mahmoud Darwish, “I don’t dream,” A River Dies of Thirst (Archipelago Books, 2009)
