أنا موجود – Eu existo

City Band – I Am Here	سيتي باند – أنا موجود
I exist, but my title keeps changing My name is youth, and I am young I am willing to live a short life And I am not afraid to die Here I am	أنا موجود لكن عنوان بيتغير أنا اسمي شباب سني صغير ومش رافض أعيش عمر قصير ومش خايف أموت أنا موجود
I exist, and I don’t have a card or ID Everybody look at me Throw me on the ground and stomp all over me Keep me from making any sound But I am here	انا موجود لا معايا بطاقه ولا هويه داروا عيوبكم كلها فيا شيلوا وحطوا ودوسوا عليا امنعوا يطلع منى الصوت أنا موجود
Say that I’m spreading fitna (discord) and I am always undermining the stability Say that I’m a kafir (infidel) and a traitor and that I’m going to hell You are free to say what you will I won’t object to any kind of dialogue Yes, I’m a killer and my weapon is some stones I am here	وقولوا عليا بعمل فتنة وبهدم دائماً الاستقرار وقولوا عليا كافر خاين ومكاني هيكون النار وقولوا كلامكم بحرية أنا مش هامنع أي حوار ايوه انا قاتل وسلاحي شوية طوب أنا موجود
Here I am Do what you want to me And when I die, nobody ask why they killed me And I beg you do not cry Whoever wants to laugh can laugh, it’s not important Nobody call out “we will not forget you” No forget me, but don’t forget The one who killed me is still out there And I am gone	أنا موجود اعملوا فيا اللي تحبوه ولما هاموت ما حدش يسأل ليه قتلوه وأرجوكم ما تبكوش اللي عايز يضحك يضحك ما يهموش وما حدش يهتف لا ننساك لا انسوني بس ان تنسوش اللي قتلني لسه موجود وأنا مش موجود

Maior que Ramsés

«… Sempre tive uma certa admiração pela sua assertividade e agradeço-lhe o dinheiro que me fez poupar em compras e táxis durante a aventura egípcia. Bastava dizer-me português que passava a ser tratado como um familar, os sorrisos abriam-se e o preço abatia metade.

Fosse figurativa a cultura muçulmana e Manuel José teria no Cairo uma estátua que envergonharia Ramsés. É incrível a admiração que o povo egípcio tem por ele. Quando lá vivi, contaram-me que quando lá chegou chamava um táxi para atravessar a estrada, hoje o trânsito pararia, o que naquela cidade é um feito digno de um deus.»

Agora vai parar pelas piores razões.

The ruins

Shameful savagery.

Oum Kalthoum – The ruins	(El Atlal)أم كلثوم – الأطلال
ام كلثوم – الأطلال يا فؤادي لا تسل أين الهوى كان صرحا من خيال فهوى اسقني واشرب على أطلاله واروعني طالما الدمع روى كيف ذاك الحب أمسى خبرا وحديثا من أحاديث الهوى لست أنساك وقد أغريتني بفم عذب المنادة رقيق ويد تمد نحوي كيد من خلال الموج مدت لغريق وبريق يظمأ الساري له أين في عينيك نياك البريق ياحبيبا زرت يوما أيكه طائر الشوق أغنى ألمي لك إبطاء المذل المنعم وتجني القادر المحتكم و حنيني لك يكوي أضلعي والتواني جمرات في دمي أعطني حريتي أطلق يدي ا إنني أعطيتك ما استبقيت شيئا آه من قيدك أدمى معصمي لم أبقيه وما أبقى عليا ما احتفاظي بعهود لم تصنها وإلام الأسر والدنيا لد يا أين من عيني حبيب ساحر فيه عز وجلال وحياء واثق الخطوة يمشي ملكا ظالم الحسن شهي الكبرياء عبق السحر كأنفاس الربى ساهم الطرف كأحلام المساء أين مني مجلس أنت به فتنتة تمت سناء وسنى وأنا حب و قلب هائم وفراش حائر منك دنا ومن الشوق رسول بيننا ونديم قدم الكاس لنا هل رأى الحب سكارى مثلنا كم بنينا من خيال حولنا ومشينا في طريق مقمر تثب الفرحة فبه قلبنا وضحكنا ضحك طفلين معا وعدونا فسبقنا ظلنا وانتبهنا بعد ما زال الرحيق وأفقنا ليت أنا لانفبق يقظة طاحت بأحلام الكرى وتولى الليل والليل صديق وإذا النور نذير طالع وإذا الفجر مطال كالحريق وإذا الدنيا كما تعرفها وإذ ا الأحباب كل فب طريق أيها الساهر تغفو تذكر العهد وتصحو وإذا ما الأم جرح جد بالتذكار جرح فتعلم كيف تنيى وتعلم كيف تمحو يا حبيبي كل شيء بقضاء ما بأيدينا خلقنا تعساء ربما تجمعنا أقدارنا ذات يوم بعدما عز اللقاء فإذا انكر خل خله وتلاقينا لقاء الغرباء ومضى كل إلى غايته لاتقل شئنا فإن الحظ شاء
Oum Kalthoum – The Ruins My heart, don’t ask where the love has gone It was a citadel of my imagination that has collapsed Pour me a drink and let us drink of its ruins And tell the story on my behalf as long as the tears flow Tell how that love became past news And became another story of passion I haven’t forgotten you And you seduced me with a sweetly-calling and tender tongue And a hand extending towards me like a hand stretched out through the waves to a drowning person You seduced me with the saliva (of a kiss) that a night traveler thirsts for But where is that light in your eyes? My darling, I visited your nest one day as a bird of desire singing my pain You’ve become self-important, spoiled and capricious And you inflict harm like a powerful tyrant And my longing for you cauterized my ribs (soul or insides) And the waiting was like embers in my blood Give me my freedom, release my hands Indeed, I’ve given you yours and did not try to retain anything Ah, your chains have bloodied my wrists I haven’t kept then nor have they spared me Why do I keep promises that you do not honor? When will this captivity end, when the world is before us? He is far away, my enchanting love Full of pride, majesty and delicacy Sure-footed walking like an angel with oppressive beauty and rapacious glory Redolent of charm like the breeze of the hills Pleasant to experience like the night’s dreams I’ve lost forever the charm of your company that radiated brilliantly I, wandering in love, a bewildered butterfly, approached you And between us, desire was a messenger and drinking companion that presented the cup to us Had love seen two as intoxicated as us? So much hope we had built up around us And we walked in the moonlit path, joy skipping along ahead of us And we laughed like two children together And we ran and raced our shadows And we became aware after the euphoria and woke up If only we did not awaken Wakefulness ruined the dreams of slumber The night came and the night became my only friend And then the light was an omen of the sunrise and the dawn was towering over like a conflagration And then the world was as we know it, with each lover in their own path Oh sleepless one who slumbers and remembers the promise when you wake up Know that if a wound begins to recover another wound crops up with the memory So learn to forget and learn to erase it My darling everything is fated It is not by our hands that we make our misfortune Perhaps one day our fates will cross when our desire to meet is strong enough For if one friend denies the other and we meet as strangers And if each of us follows his or her own way Don’t say it was by our own will But rather, the will of fate

Mulheres na areia

As feministas egípcias dizem “obrigadinha” à gaiata que se publicou nua na internet e contou com pormenor ter perdido a virgindade aos 18 anos com um homem de 60 que amava, no fim e em sua defesa afirmou tudo isto é arte. Como bónus, 40 mulheres israelitas terem também elas pousado nuas em apoio à pequena.

No antigo regime vigorava um regime de quotas que assegurava 64 lugares para as mulheres no parlamento, que foi revogada pelos revolucionários, por atentar contra a igualdade. Os islamistas e salafistas agradeceram. Os cartazes de campanha das candidatas islamistas, são a imagem da “decência”, fotografias dos maridos ou de flores. Num comício salafista em Alexandria, as estátuas de sereias da praça foram cobertas por atentarem contra a moral, para além de se recusarem a ser interpelados na televisão por mulheres de cabeça destapada. Farkhonda Hassan, secretária-geral do Conselho Nacional das Mulheres está muito apreensiva quanto ao futuro.

A indignação na midan(ميدان, ‎praça) passou a aura(عورة, indigno) na praça.

Onde estavamos antes da Primavera

Até há pouco tempo atrás o excêntrico campista líbio era Coronel, só depois se “descobriu” que era um ditador, um tirano, que governou a Líbia com mão de ferro durante gerações. Foi odiado pelo Ocidente, acolhido pelo oeste, odiado novamente, em seguida, foi abraçado. Mubarak, o homem que abria a cada Fórum Econômico Mundial em Sharm El Sheikh, com a sua retórica poída para os aplausos cansados dos líderes do mundo.

Como explicar o silêncio que cercou a presidência Mubarak e a tirania da sua família antes de 25 de janeiro? Instado pelos camaradas a 29 é expulso a 31, num comunicado: «(…)we are, as of today, ceasing the membership of the NDP. (…) Consequently, we consider that a party in government that does not listen, that does not move and that does not immediately initiate a process of meaningful change in these circumstances, cannot be a member of the Socialist International.» Zine El Abidine Ben Ali teve igual tratamento dias antes, depois de anos de fêrrea ditadura na Tunísia.

Conta a lenda que um grupo de viajantes iemenitas pernoitou num canto fresco do Sahara, quando partiram de manhã esqueceram-se dos mantimentos. Então um cavaleiro voltou para recolher as provisões, o cavalo que montava enterrou uma pata na areia, de onde começou a brotar água, ain el-faras(fonte do cavalo), ali nasceu o oásis de Ghadames (ghada=almoço, ames=ontem). Não há almoços grátis já alguem dizia.

I Love the Sea

Najat al-Saghira(نجاة الصغيرة), egípcia, famosa na década de 60, canta o seu amor ao mar “انا بعشق البحر”[ana bachaq al bahr].

I love the sea, tender as you are And at times, like you, crazy Migrating, traveling. At times, like you, confused At times, like you, angry At times full of silence. I love the sea. I love the sky Because, like you, it’s forgiving Sown with stars and joy A lover and a stranger. And because, like you, it’s distant And sometimes, like you, near, with eyes that sing. I love the sky. I love the road Because on it is our meeting, Our joy and our sorrow, Our friends and our youth, And on it our tears laughed And our candles wept, And a friend was lost. I love the road. I love the sea, And I love the sky And I love the road Because they are life And you, my love, You are life itself.

انا بعشق البحر زيك يا حبيبتى حنون وسعات زيك مجنون ومهاجر ومسافر وسعات زيك حيران وسعات زيك زعلان وسعات مليان بالصمت انا بعشق البحر انا بعشق السما علشان زيك مسامحة مزروعة نجوم وفرحة وحبيبة وغريبة وعشان زيك بعيدة وسعات زيك قريبة بعيون متنغمة انا بعشق السما انا بعشق الطريق لانة فية لقانة وفرحنا وشقانا واصحابنا وشبابنا وفية ضحكت دمعنا وفية بكيت شمعنا وضاع فية الصديق انا بعشق الطريق انا بعشق البحر وبعشق السما وبعشق الطريق لانهم حياة وانتى يا حبيبتى انتى كل الحياة

Torturada

Estava à uns dias para publicar esta entrevista.

Não é para os estômagos mais fracos.

Já dizia uma amiga minha, no Cairo, “uma estrangeira só anda uma vez de metro”.