Fadi Abu-Deeb
/ GreyThoughts.Info…Christmas and New Year’s Eve I return to Satie’s music to understand my short Parisian stay and what happened in front of that flaming stove two days after André…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
… am not exactly happy, but puzzled—like a garden when the sun begins melting its snow too quickly, uncertain how it will appear to its…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
… not sure why, that night, I insisted on taking you to that small bistro on the pier of the stormy bay at the town’s northern edge. It was closed, as was customary on such evenings, but I asked George, who lived next door, to open it for…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…in the village house,
in the heart of green amber and fierce glimmer,
I climb to him through the olive groves—
in the silver silence between…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…hear those undulating chimes
coming from the depth of the forest?
Do you see the village
spell-bound by the music…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…wavering glimpses in my head—
The scene of a luminous curve in a valley road
The zest of a new morning in a sunny pavilion
Whispers of promises telling of a coming…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…Christmas and New Year’s Eve I return to Satie’s music to understand my short Parisian stay and what happened in front of that flaming stove two days after André…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
… am not exactly happy, but puzzled—like a garden when the sun begins melting its snow too quickly, uncertain how it will appear to its…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
… not sure why, that night, I insisted on taking you to that small bistro on the pier of the stormy bay at the town’s northern edge. It was closed, as was customary on such evenings, but I asked George, who lived next door, to open it for…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…in the village house,
in the heart of green amber and fierce glimmer,
I climb to him through the olive groves—
in the silver silence between…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…hear those undulating chimes
coming from the depth of the forest?
Do you see the village
spell-bound by the music…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…wavering glimpses in my head—
The scene of a luminous curve in a valley road
The zest of a new morning in a sunny pavilion
Whispers of promises telling of a coming…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
Oblomov is the protagonist…
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... the last burst of joy in his life
Running beside the bicycle of his beloved woman
Drenched with nebulous…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…have come
From all those humid and warm bazaars
From those home-streets of pricking noise
From the fields of fanaticism that turned…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…in the middle of a snowy plain,
I throw my head upside down
Toward the forest behind
Like a child trying to…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…digging up the root of madness,
I behold the tribes of our planet
putting off the peels of civilization;
I try to ward off the rays of the black…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…an exhausting effort of trying to make the driver understand that he should stop on the hilltop “in front of the stairs that reached up to the cemetery road” at the beginning of that slope that descended towards my home. He could hardly understand my…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…are you painting trees?
Because a tribe of birds wants to live close to me.
Why are you painting a flood?
Because, in my spare time…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
I use the term "cosmic poetry"…
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…mingle within the cosmos and to speak about it as though you are, yourself, one of the trees in a jungle with countless details, or a wave in an ocean that no one knows how and where to locate; one deer among the multitudes of its species, or a moose that veils herself in the depth of a…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…I’m still sitting under the young fig tree in the garden of our old house, holding the first volume of Ricarda Huch’s work on German Romanticists. It is as if I haven’t left that book at all, despite what I thought, that I abandoned its ideas many years ago. Thus, Schelling’s and Novalis’s romantic ideas…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…o some pieces of the Gymnopédies and the Gnossiennes by the French composer Erik Satie, I always feel as if I’m living in the 18th or the first half of the 19th century. Among other images, I’m walking into a Parisian alley, perhaps searching for a French book…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
It was written first in Arabic. The current version is a free translation.
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…one boat to another,
I wander between hazy lanterns
On the water that suppresses…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb
…wonder what the music will whisper to me.
Sitting under the wing of a Scandinavian forest,
Before the vast presence of unending icy meadows,
I face the moon, as two soldiers in a…
By Fadi Abu-Deeb