I found interpreting Darwish’s A River Dies of Thirst to be a fascinating challenge. It seems to me that there are distinct patterns to be found in his collection, for he makes repeated use of particular metaphors throughout. Take trees, for instance. For Darwish, “the tree is forgiveness and vigilance.” He depicts the tree as an ever present sentinel, as a witness to violence, even its own: “They [the soldiers] crush our grandmother, so that now her branches are in the earth and her roots in the air.” I see Darwish’s thematic use of the sky as standing for indifference or a sort of absurd pointlessness. It is fair or dark regardless of what takes place below: “No war there. And no peace, and the sky is clean and light above the place” and “The sky is not blue or white or grey, because the colours are points of view agreeing and disagreeing.” I like the idea of using the same concept more than once, in an emblematic way.
Along with the sky, Darwish makes frequent cloud references which I believe stand for himself as a poet: “An apple fell on me from the clouds, and I knew my imagination was a faithful hunting dog” and “The poet becomes increasingly involved in describing the silk shawl, not noticing that it is a cloud that happens to be passing between the branches of the tree at sunset.” In “The essence of the poem“: “A cloud in a poet’s imagination is an idea.” I cannot fathom referencing myself as artist in my own poetry. For me, this would require achieving a certain level of significance as a poet. Darwish’s birds are beautiful and transcendent, flying up and above the signs of war as in “Doves.”
Finally, perhaps more than anything, A River Dies of Thirst is existential, including “What’s it all for?,” “A longing to forget,” “On nothingness,” and “Rustling.” In “Life to the last drop,” Darwish responds humorously to the question of what would you do if you were to die tomorrow: “If I existed, as I do now, then I wouldn’t think about not existing. If I didn’t exist, then the question wouldn’t bother me.” In “I was not with me,” Darwish is “neither sad nor happy, for nothingness has no connection to emotion or to time.” Darwish’s existentialism resonates with me only insofar as I’ve explored the self in some of my own writing, but certainly not in the kind of context he experienced.
Along with the sky, Darwish makes frequent cloud references which I believe stand for himself as a poet: “An apple fell on me from the clouds, and I knew my imagination was a faithful hunting dog” and “The poet becomes increasingly involved in describing the silk shawl, not noticing that it is a cloud that happens to be passing between the branches of the tree at sunset.” In “The essence of the poem“: “A cloud in a poet’s imagination is an idea.” I cannot fathom referencing myself as artist in my own poetry. For me, this would require achieving a certain level of significance as a poet. Darwish’s birds are beautiful and transcendent, flying up and above the signs of war as in “Doves.”
Finally, perhaps more than anything, A River Dies of Thirst is existential, including “What’s it all for?,” “A longing to forget,” “On nothingness,” and “Rustling.” In “Life to the last drop,” Darwish responds humorously to the question of what would you do if you were to die tomorrow: “If I existed, as I do now, then I wouldn’t think about not existing. If I didn’t exist, then the question wouldn’t bother me.” In “I was not with me,” Darwish is “neither sad nor happy, for nothingness has no connection to emotion or to time.” Darwish’s existentialism resonates with me only insofar as I’ve explored the self in some of my own writing, but certainly not in the kind of context he experienced.
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