Mahmoud Darwish

A fine poem on the subject of Jersualem by Darwish (transl. Fady Joudah).  The whole thing is here, and I don't want to trespass on the poet's copyright by reproducing it on my blog, except to say that I was especially struck by these lines:

I was walking down a slope and thinking to myself: How
do the narrators disagree over what light said about a stone?
Is it from a dimly lit stone that wars flare up?

The original is in The Butterfly’s Burden (2007), by Copper Canyon Press.