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 At the height of the crisis
The artist curled up to take a nap
Crouching like a cat in the corner
Glancing from his palace
Watching the time
His senses smelled the blood
He had on him while dozing away
still the shoes of Ahmmad runing away
clunk somewhere in the artist’s drawer
Ahmmad’s shoes were lucky enough to escape the shot
That blew up Ahmmad’s head
Ali’s shirt is still alive
Ali hasn’t reached the age
When girls dream about black eyes
When girls dream about the white horse
Ali was on the threshold of the dream
When his shirt turned to a velvet color
Ali’s shirt still hangs dreaming in the artist’s drawer
More valuable was Ali’s shirt than Ali
In the middle of the street
Miriam was singing:
Ashii batta, deek hmamai,
Shabara amara , kalli
Sisdi a~didi el-ashara
One ..two …three…
Before she’d reached ten
Her song bled
And little Miriam’s doll
Still smiled, smeared with blood, in the artist’s drawer
at the height of the crisis
the artist retreated to his studio
like a cat lying down in the corner
waiting for a chance to go and pick up the rest of the blood
still, the artist gets the audience’s stamp of approval
he climbs the eyelids of the homeland
while Ahmmad’s shoes, Ali’s shirt and Miriam’s doll
hold their rumbling ceremony in the artist’s drawer.
Just a moment ago
They were here
Still their beds healing their steps /running in place
Their laughter still slips into the walls
Just a moment ago
I heard their music,
Their cigarettes still burning
The coats of men, of women,
Babies’ dolls still whispering their songs
Still here
Before a final scream
Covered their dreams
The Ceremony of Women
Every morning women perform their ancient ceremony
Embracing their warm dreams
Weaving their nostalgias for the water wells
And for the winds’ song coming on the wings
every morning
women sew beds for their spoiled bodies
bleeding the left lust from their eyelids
and like a spoiled lentil grain
grind their desires
in the morning
women beautified by yellow smiles
by counting the cups/the dresses/and the agony
of the loss of their erect breasts
women perform their old habits
plucking their hair, waiting for the coming moaning
spit out their old skin into coffee cups
rummaging for their eyes in the drifting smoke
but when the roar of the iron monster sweeps their heads
and when the blood spreads in the streets
and the dead gazes intertwine
the olive trees scream in the corners
then women change their ceremonies
hurl off their old meals made of nostalgia
/their beautiful trifles
when the blood soaks the dreams
women change their ceremonies
and turn all into one scream .
In The Bottle Neck
During the day, she grinds the walls of the house
By her teeth
Her skin absorbs the dust of the road.
During the night,
She grinds her shanks,
Blood flows from her eyes,
And water on her bed.
during the day,she washes her empty time
by counting the rooms
by chewing the live meat,
And at night ,an icy wall,
A pile of dullness,
slips between her thighs,
she squeezes the agony of her time ,
an illusory man!
during the day,she plucks out her hair,
waiting for the coming mourning
and at night ,she hides the key of her keyhole
In the invisible
For fear that a dead skin
Might perch between her breasts
During the day,she drives away flies
from her spoiled memories
And at night,she obsessed by madness
That flows from her top to her bottom,
She sleeps upon her face,
With a crushed dream,
Till a repeated day rises
And wash,
And pluck out,
And drive away,
Then another night falls…!
ABDULLA
When Abdulla is filled with sorrow,
His shoulders embrace his eyebrows.
Eating himself ,and Leaning
on a chance,
He carries his provisions:
“Some olives and his mother`s breath.”
He presses them to his bosom,
And ties them to his waist,
fearing about the slipping away
Of the remaining drops of warmth,
And wipes with his tattooted hands,
By the leaves of years,
A face like an old stone,
Spoiled by waters at the bottom of the ocean.
He smells twice,
Open his mouth,
Yawning like an over –bored cat ,
And moves his wood –feet,
Dragging his nose ahead of him
After a morsel!
HYMNS WITHOUT RYTHHM
O,You,Who is standing erect in front of me!
Filled into your Frowining shirt,
Your body is a Whale
That preferred imprisonment
Untie your nets!
Set yourself free!
Deflower the waves!
And raise the foam
………………………..
your frowning shirt will melt away!
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-Ms. Mahagna Nasera
(Professional writing name, Aida Nasrallah)
- B.A. in Arabic and Art, University of Haifa .
-M.A. Degree. Thesis topic: “Female Artists from the Wadi Ara Region; Their Artistic Endeavor as a Reflection of their Social and Individual Perception”
-Invited to participate in the IWP (International Writing Program) at Iowa University-2001
Recipient of Special Fellowship for outstanding Graduate Student at Tel Aviv University, Women’s Forum, 1999- 2000
Invited to participate in a series of conferences in Nazareth about women short story writers in Arabic, 1997.
Publications , Presentations and Talks :
More than forty short stories and 60 poems, in Arabic, published in various Arabic publications in Israel- 1982-1995.
“Poetry Reading,” International Conference: “Common Threads: Susan Glaspell’s Trifles and the Interactions of Arts, Law, and Society in Addressing Violence Against Women,” Tel Aviv University, 2000.
" Reflection of multi-identity in literature", women studies at Iowa, 2001
" From Away: an evening of international playwriting: reading by a discussion with the writers and Psc artist staff" Israel" the moaning of Rosary by Aida nasrallah, produced by RJ McComish, Portland Stage Company, 2001
" Global Express", reading of the play" the moaning of Rosary, produced by Maggie Conry at The theatre department, Iowa University. 2001
" The moaning of rosary", at New York Theatre Workshop, New York, 2001
" Perspective on terrorism: A forum " visiting international writers and Iowa scholars ' Iowa state university, Ames, Storm lake, Sponsored by: Humanities Iowa and Institute on world Affairs (funded by GSB), 2001
"Poetry evening", The Writers Center, Washington, USA, 2001
“Weaving a Connection,” Lecture at Opening of Exhibition, Genia Schreiber Gallery, Tel Aviv University, in conjunction with International Conference, “Common Threads: Susan Glaspell’s Trifles and the Interactions of Arts, Law, and Society in Addressing Violence Against Women,” Tel Aviv University, 2001.
" Art and other media", lecture at Iowa University, 2001
“Women, Art, and the Political and Social Implications in Making Peace between Peoples,” Department Seminar, Department of Art History, Tel Aviv University, 1999.
“Adam: The Use of Art in Arabic Culture,” Um El Fahem Gallery, 1999.
“Women’s Embroidery and Women’s Lives: Making Connections between Arabic and Jewish Israeli Women,” Kfar Saba Gallery, 1999.
“Using Art in High Schools to Teach about Relationships between People,” High School Teachers’ Workshop, Kfar Saba High School, 2000.
“Embroidery as an Art form,” Women’s Forum, Tel Aviv University, 2000.
Art Exhibits
1997:Group Exhibition, “Calligraphy,” Al-Burg al Hasin Gallery, Qolonswa, Israel.
“Group Exhibition, “Adama”(Earth) University Gallery, University of Michigan,Ann Arbor, Michigan
2000: Group Exhibition: “Weaving a Connection,” Genia Schreiber Gallery, Tel Aviv University
2001: Group Exhibition" self-portrait" catalogue edited by Tall Ben Tzvi.
2002: Group Exhibition “ women create art and letreture", Bet Bialik gallery, Tel-Aviv
2002: personal Exhibition: Subhat", Europe center Gallery, Bethlehem
2002: Personal Exhibition:" Subhat", the gallery of university of Bethlehem.
2003: Group Exhibition, -(among the seminar)- “Show Your Wound”, Bet Asia, Tel-Aviv
Art Projects and Activities
Theatre:
1974-75;Acted in theatre troop, Um El Fahem. Traveled around country performing
1974-76
Works written by participants.
1985-90 Organized and ran a weekly salon for women poets and writers, Um El
Fahum, the purpose of which was to explore women’s ways of knowing and Women's self-expression and art. Served as mentor for Arab women in the area who
Wished to experiment with poetry and fiction
2001 take apart in the theatre activities in theatre El-lagon`s theatre in Um El fahem city.
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