Refaat Alareer - Tumblr Posts

7 months ago
It’s true. There are also other, secondary things we are losing as well. We didn’t just lose Alareer, but we lost his poetry; it’s all underneath the rubble, all the future poetry he would have written. And all these artists
who have been killed … what’s happened to their art? We talk about numbers of people dead, and we can’t even begin to comprehend this other loss.
Q: You’ve talked about the role of the poet as a historian in past interviews. Can you tell me what that means?

A: I think of writing as a testimony for history. If one day in the future someone reads my poetry, I think, or I hope, they will be able to tell who is the colonizer, and who are the people of the land. Literature can sometimes reflect this better than any political speech.

It’s difficult for me to talk about the role of artists, or writers, in a genocide. Maybe you are relatively safe for a moment, but you are not. No one is safe.
When you are an audience to a genocide and you can’t even contribute something - I feel that it is worse in some ways. People have different reactions. Some stop watching the news. Some stop feeling anything about it and do nothing about it. For me, this doesn’t work. Of course, as a writer, if you do not really care about the fate of other humans or the injustices of the world, I question what kind of writer you really are.
Q: Your poems often take up heavy subjects, like colonialism and the horrors of war. But you also write about the beautiful, even mundane parts of life. How do you not get lost in the bleakness of it all?

A: Despite everything, I should say that I see a lot of beauty. I am not a person who likes to praise their homeland. But Palestine contains a lot of beauty, in its nature, culture, people. I also read a lot; reading is a sort of cure. It connect you with other humans and their past. The library is the archive of the human soul. Art is a big part of this too; it frees you from the limitations and cruelties of the moment.

Palestinian poet Najwan Darwish: ‘We can’t begin to comprehend the loss of art’

“Poetry has been the colossal record of violence and. . . the colossal record of compassion,” the Chilean poet Raúl Zurita wrote in the foreword to Exhausted on the Cross [Najwan Darwish’s latest collection], and it’s a duty that the poet takes seriously.


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1 year ago
"If I Must Die" is written on a classic black and white keffiyeh. "Refaat Alareer" is written beneath the title.
A scene of hundreds of besser-block gravestones span a desolate and dusty landscape, with a distant damaged city in the background. One of the tombs has a piece of cardboard with "۞مِنۡهَا خَلَقۡنَٰكُمۡ وَفِيهَا نُعِيدُكُمۡ وَمِنۡهَا نُخۡرِجُكُمۡ تَارَةً أُخۡرَىٰ" (From the earth We created you, and into it We will return you, and from it We will extract you another time) written on it. In the midground, a man with a sombre facial expression carries the shrouded body of a child.
A line of text says: "If I must die,"
A close-up of the first image, zoomed into one of the besser-blocks. A small watermelon seedling has sprouted from the dirt of the grave.
A line of text says: "you must live"
A hexagonal, white kite with a keffiyeh pattern is sitting on a table.
Some lines of text says: "to tell my story, to sell my things, to buy a piece of cloth and some strings, (make it white with a long tail)"
A child with dark, curly hair stands surrounded by grey, dusty rubble. He has dust on his feet and is looking up at the sky.
Some lines of text says: "so that a child, somewhere in Gaza, while looking heaven in the eye"
A scene depicting buildings being bombed, with billowing flames obscuring the sky.
Some lines of text says: "awaiting his dad who left in a blaze - and bid no one farewell"
The child from the previous image is looking out over a barren landscape with a great concrete wall in the distance, his back to us. There is rubble in the foreground.
Some text says: "not even to his flesh, not even to himself -"
A close up of the wall from the previous image, showing the white keffiyeh kite flying in the blue sky above it.
Some text says: "sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above"
A close up of the child's face, with the kite reflecting in his eyes, tears running down his face. The child's face is painterly.
Some text says: "and thinks for a moment an angel is there, bringing back love"
A painting of the besser-block tombstones, but the watermelon seedling has grown to cover the grave, into a watermelon vine. Small watermelons are growing and there are multiple yellow flowers.
Some text says: "If I must die, let it bring hope"
One of the watermelons has split open, showing off the colours of the Palestinian flag. It is surrounded by other watermelons and watermelon leaves.
Some text says: "let it be a tale"

🍉If I must die, let it bring hope. Let it be a tale 🪁

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170 hours later and this behemoth project is completed. After being moved to tears three times by Dr. Alareer's poem, I needed to create something. Hopefully this honours his memory.

Hoping to get some funding from local orgs to get this printed into a physical booklet for distribution.

From the river, to the sea!


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1 year ago

Refaat spoke to CNN and asked for his audio to be published in the event of his death.


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1 year ago
Refaat Alereer: If I Die, Let It Be A Tale
Refaat Alereer: If I Die, Let It Be A Tale
Refaat Alereer: If I Die, Let It Be A Tale
Refaat Alereer: If I Die, Let It Be A Tale
Refaat Alereer: If I Die, Let It Be A Tale

Refaat Alereer: If I die, let it be a tale


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5 months ago
If I must die

If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze–
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself–
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale

If I must die by Refaat Alareer


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1 year ago
PLEASE SHARE. I Don't Really Use This Blog For My Writing, But I Can't Help It This Time. Rest In Poetry,

PLEASE SHARE. I don't really use this blog for my writing, but I can't help it this time. Rest in Poetry, Refaat. 🫒🕊


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