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Shurouk Hammod , born in 1982, is an award-winning Syrian poet, literary translator and journalist. She is an Arts graduate and has a Masters degree in Translation Studies from Damascus University. She has three published poetry collections in Arabic and one in English titled The Night Papers. Her poems have been published in many poetry anthologies in France, Serbia, Netherlands and India.

Shurouk is a member of Palestinian Writers and Journalists Union and an honorary member at NAJI Naaman International Library of Honorary Culture. She has won many national and international poetry awards including, Charles Baudelaire first prize for Poetry Creativity (2018), Sylvia Plath Medal for Writing Poetry ( 2017), Jack Kerouac Poetry Merit award (2016), Arthur Rimbaud Merit Diploma for Writing Poetry (2015), Nazik al Malieka Literary Prize for Writing Poetry (2012), Alexandria Public Library Prize for Writing Poetry (2012), and Naji Namman International Literary Prize for Writing Poetry (2014).

She was appointed as an Ambassador of the Word by the Spanish foundation Cesar Egido Serrano in 2016, and the Ambassador of Spanish language by the institution in 2017. Her poetry has been translated into French, Finnish, Mandarin, German, Mandarin, Italian and English.

Poet’s Identity Card

I am a yellow leaf

The wind forgot me

in a hurricane’s pocket

Sadness is my father-in-law

since I married the poem

Fed my kids with clouds

and died in a suitcase

Isolation is the colour of my glasses

I am a noisy silence

looking for a kiss

to break the glassy waiting

in my poem’s eyes

I am the one who accumulated his screams

on a white paper

to turn this black world deaf

Who can

but me

seduce a sexy lady

called heavens

So tell me

just once

how poetry’s messenger could be a demon

While death’s messenger called an angel

The psycho

who talks to himself before the mirror

blaming it for deforming her face

The psycho

who wears humanity perfume

is not a real psycho

She is a poet

she is me

But unfortunately

no one looks into the UN protocols for

the poet’s properties in wisdom lands?

No one tells Plato


cities without poets

are nothing but hell

Who can erase the blackboard’s night

with a word

but the poet

Tell me who?

O hope !


We have in common

what all people have

The same optimistic names

what we see at night

in the unattainable skies

The fear

and a lot of waiting

It is not the same place

that brings us together

but all of this destruction