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advaitam poetry movement, Advaitam Speaks Literary, Arabic Poetry in Advaitam, Hengul-Haitaal, kavyasutra, Poetry in Arabic, Syrian poet, Syrian poetry, World Literarture, world poetry, world poetry today
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
that
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 !
Denominators
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
