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A Noun Sentence

by Mahmoud Darwish   
Translated by Fady Joudah

A noun sentence, no verb
to it or in it: to the sea the scent of the bed
after making love ... a salty perfume
or a sour one. A noun sentence: my wounded joy
like the sunset at your strange windows.
My flower green like the phoenix. My heart exceeding
my need, hesitant between two doors:
entry a joke, and exit
a labyrinth. Where is my shadow—my guide amid
the crowdedness on the road to judgment day? And I
as an ancient stone of two dark colors in the city wall,
chestnut and black, a protruding insensitivity
toward my visitors and the interpretation of shadows. Wishing
for the present tense a foothold for walking behind me
or ahead of me, barefoot. Where
is my second road to the staircase of expanse? Where
is futility? Where is the road to the road?
And where are we, the marching on the footpath of the present
tense, where are we? Our talk a predicate
and a subject before the sea, and the elusive foam
of speech the dots on the letters,
wishing for the present tense a foothold
on the pavement ...

Darwish is considered Palestine's most eminent poet.  He was born on March 13, 1942 in Al Birweh, Palestine, into a land-owning Sunni Muslim family. During the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, his village was destroyed and his family fled to Lebanon. They returned the following year, secretly re-entering Israel.  As a young man, he became a Communist and attended the University of Moscow for one year.  Then he moved to Cairo. He lived in exile for twenty-six years, between Beirut and Paris, until his return to Israel in 1996, after which he settled in Ramallah in the West Bank.
poets.org

War Trash by Ha Jin

This book describes the everyday life of Chinese POWs held by the US during the Korean War.  The chronicler of the story -- Feng Yan -- is telling his tale many years later from the perspective of a 79-year-old man.  He starts the story while he is visiting his son and grandchildren in America.  He will be returning to China where he has spent most of his life.  He does not think he will ever get back to America. 

Feng Yan -- as a soldier and a POW -- was smart and reserved but had not fear of fighting for his life if necessary.  His goal was simple: survival: survival under inhumane conditions and the constant threat of violence.

Many of the POWs were in his situation.  They were not Communists.  Actually they feared the Communists, with good reason.  But they wanted to return to Mainland China to help their families.  For Feng Yan, it was his mother and his fiancée.

During their confinement the POWs were adept at keeping themselves occupied and scrounging for food and communicating with each other. At times they resorted to protests, hunger strikes, or even the kidnapping of a US officer to protest the conditions of their confinement.  Yet they were aware of the strong probability of retribution.

This novel portrays men under stress in impossible situations with great psychological acuity.  The reader is transported to a barbarous world with very few good guys.  The plot is believable and suspenseful.  There is no way to know how any of the characters will end up -- wounded physically or mentally, murdered -- and where he will go when released: to mainland China or to Taiwan.

The Los Angeles Times describes War Trash as a work of profound humanism, and this is an apt description.  Ha Jin's artistry lies in his ability to detect humanity among starving desparate men, and to make the reader care deeply about their fate.