by Mishka Mojabber Mourani
When I write jacaranda
I see the empty courtyard
Foundering in purple
On a morning of war
Normal life entombed
When I write jasmine
I smell the scent of a memory
From a parched tree
Stripped of its leaves
In an empty, absent space
When I write bougainvillea
I am deafened by the clamor of the empty school
Embracing the red of a perfect autumn morning
That I can not but love to distraction
When I write frangipani
I tread on the creamy velvet of a first walk
In the sleepless neighborhood
Just after the shelling stopped
When I write honeysuckle
I taste the drop of nectar
Hidden in the ivory filament
That catches me in fragrante delicto
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Mishka Mojabber Mourani (aka Marie-Christine Mogabert) was born in Alexandria, Egypt, of a Greek mother and Lebanese father. By the age of six she spoke several languages, including French, Greek, Arabic and Italian, but English was the one most used in her multicultural family. Her love of reading and of writing began at an early age. At the age of 10 she moved to Beirut with her family, and a few years later they emigrated to Sydney, Australia, where she finished high school and joined Sydney University. She returned to Beirut and completed a BA and MA in English Literature at the American University of Beirut. In 1989 she edited and co-authored a series of books on the teaching of English entitled Highlighting the English Language Program. In 1991 Mishka Mojabber Mourani published a poetry collection – Lest We Forget: Lebanon 1975-1990.
Last updated September 02, 2011