KHARTOUM (Sudanow) — Poet, former Sudanow literary writer, Mohamed Najeeb Mohamed Ali, has won the Tayeb Salih’s International Award for Written Creativity.
The Award in its 11th edition has awarded Ali the third division prize, Poetry Category, for his poetry collection: ”Songs of the Questions.”
The contest is an annual event, organized in memory of the late International-Sudanese Novelist Tayeb Salih whose novel "Season of Migration to the North" was voted among the "100 Greatest Books in History" by authors from 54 nations in a writers’ poll conducted in 2002.
This year the competition included poetry, short story and novel branches. The total value of the prizes is 200 thousand dollars.
The literary and cultural circles continue to celebrate Ali’s achievement. On this occasion, “The Letters Forum” on Saturday held a party in honour of Ali and his literary contributions.
Ali was born in the locality of Argo, the Northern State, in 1953.
He had graduated from the Philosophical Studies Section, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University- Khartoum Branch in 1979.
He composed patriotic poetry, love songs and songs for peace, always aligned with man and humanity. He had published six poetry collections; some of his verse translated into English and German.
As a journalist, Mr. Ali has served in many of the Sudanese publications and also as literary correspondent of The Aljazeera Net and the Qatari Alwatan newspaper.
Sudanow is honored to publish the English version of one of his poems as translated by Mr. Alsir Khidir:
Amulets on a Firry Tattoo
I hide from you the crying shadow in the end of this morning and I call out in the name of the gypsy creep, for the last kiss,
So as to link into their deaths the pregnant dreams
O marvelous history, unwritten,
This is the wine of acquisitiveness
The crack of thunder.
O river of promise
My heart is folded unto yours
My path is yours
I am a fugitive escaping from the gypsy inspiration
From this lyrical revelation.
All the disciples of love
Lined up behind me
Naked, having nothing to hide
These are the shreds of my sins,
And the firry tattoo
These are the beginnings of glory.
My body has become hypostasized
Disclosing that in my heart
Clamored the returning birds from exodus,
Dwelled the sparks of fire.
I denied the rejected past time
Threw down my stick, yet did not turn into a snake,
Threw the words of the coming love,
The sea divided.
What is splendour in this age?
The trees of love grow cities and names of martyrs
And now let’s share
The borders of the remote region.
I am naked in the time of the seven ears of corn
In the cock’s belly
And the killing melancholy.
I stick to the rhythm
Defended by the boarders of the nightly sleeplessness
The guards of the inn betrayed the bridal cup
And step in the summer’s party
No I lean against your bosom
(Fear overwhelms me, ha!)
What would happen if went into
The belly of the whale without tossing me out to land! What would…
And I have never learnt how to admit,
These seven moons.
E N D
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