An Oriental
Tapestry
A
Necessary Eulogy
I stood
silently for a while,
in the plush neighborhood,
paying homage to a garbage can,
thinking of the recent demise
of the foremost Syrian poet this century,
if not many more centuries,
an old man who had passed away,
not too unexpectedly,
a mere two days ago,
of heart failure.
The very old man who had inspired many of us,
for a long period of time,
with his poetry of love,
belonging,
and patriotism.
Yet another one of those old Arab men
who
had mastered so well the art
of denuding souls,
including their own,
with words,
simple
well-chosen
words.
They named a street after him,
appropriately enough,
mere hours after his death,
or so it was said,
and his funeral today will be attended
by the cream of Arab societies, naturally,
politicians,
civil servants,
artists,
even men of religion,
and many, many women I am sure.
All will
say eulogies for him.
All will
sincerely mourn his death.
But to me,
it will all be pomp and circumstance,
without any meaning,
or significance
whatever.
For the
truth of how things really are
in Arab societies today,
is reflected right there in front of my saddened eyes
on that little hapless leaflet,
announcing the man’s death,
appropriately posted
on the garbage can.
Notes
Written May 3, 1998, in honor of the late Nizar
Qabbani.
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