2023-10-08 11:43:32
How much I was worried about making the decision to write an article about the educated Zajali poet Asaad Saeed (as I like to call him). The conversation slipping into the emotional path is something that worries me, as the municipality of Sarafand decided to honor the poet and erect a monument to him.
The emotional slippage here in talking about Asaad Saeed lies in the existence of a family relationship. I consider myself a “rationalist,” and to emphasize this rationality, I tattooed on my hand: “Follow your mind.”
Before starting the article, simply reading the news about the Nobel Prize aroused my curiosity and stimulated my imagination: “This year’s Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to the Norwegian writer John Foss (64 years old), who is one of the most prominent playwrights in his country. He has written about 40 plays, in addition to Novels, short stories, children’s books, poetry and essays, according to the Associated Press.” The objective opinion regarding granting the award to the Norwegian writer may be that he deserves it out of confidence in the existence of a committee of experts that follows up all the details of culture, literature, and novels… and has a long history of being careful in choosing who will receive the award. I am not comparing our Arab world (Lebanese/Southern/Sarafandi) with the world of Norway!
Of course, the committee’s decision to award the Nobel Prize is linked to the extent of the impact that the literary production accomplished by John Foss had on his society in a positive and remarkable way. But my imagination, which is working intensely, is thinking about the subject of honor! Honoring is an act undertaken by one party to appreciate another party that it deems worthy of this honor. The honor may be official or informal. Official honoring is issued by a public body (governmental official or private institutional), and thus the goal in both cases of honoring is to benefit the memory of the honoree for his achievements in the field in which he excels.
The poet Asaad Saeed was born in the year 1922, and the information is not from the Wikipedia encyclopedia, but from the family. My uncle Asaad is the patriarch of the family, as my grandfather “Abdo” fathered five sons, Asaad, Saadi, Youssef, Musa and Najib, and they are in Diyar al-Haqq, the last of whom is my father. Who died a year ago (10-13-2022) and was over ninety years old. I wrote a novel that will be published within a few days (titled: You are Joseph, my father), and I talked about my grandfather’s magnanimity: “This magnanimity was the slow cause of my grandfather’s death. The novel says that my grandfather, Abu As’ad, was walking at the bottom of the valley, and he was a man from Our village is walking alongside it, grazing his sheep in safety. Then he saw a large stone leaning against a small rock that was “rolling” down from the top of the mountain, and the certain possibility is that a collision with the herd would inevitably happen, and the shepherd might lose some of the “sheep.” So he begged for help. He called my uncle (my grandfather, Abu Asaad) and said: “Your help, O Abu Asaad, saved me from this calamity. My sheep are gone, my black calamity.” Uncle Abu Asaad was only to reassure him, saying: “You do not care about my brother.” He stood with his arms open, his chest and muscles solid. He revealed his determination to help others. He received the small rock and stopped it from rolling, after he took a position in front of the flock of sheep in order to protect them and their shepherd from injury.” In addition to the fact that he was a “qawwal” (i.e. a jajal), and the magnanimity of “Abdo” he passed on to his sons, in addition to the talent of jajal, he used to say “a throwback” to those who advised him, “Never mind, Abu Asaad: “I will not stop this car
Even if gray hair invades my head
Until Asaad grows up
And he will fill the backbiting.”
The poet Asaad Saeed began his career in Palestine, and he lived there for a period before the Nakba in 1948, due to the proximity of our village to Palestine (Sarfand, south of Lebanon). Years ago, a Palestinian friend sent me an interview he conducted with him, and the interview was documented by the “Arab Information Center for Popular Arts” (Al-Jana) Palestine.
(In the play Bridge of the Moon)
After his return from Palestine, after 1948, he participated with the Rahbanis in the play “The Bridge of the Moon” and performed the sword and shield dance. In addition to his male talent, he was talented in dabke and the folkloric sword and shield dance. He appeared in one of the Rahban films dancing with a jug on his head. I do not know the reasons and motivations for the idea of honoring the poet, and the “centenary” argument is also incorrect, as the poet was born in 1922, and thus the centenary was last year. My problem with the honoring issue is that it falls under the Lebanese “Prestige” framework. This is to allay doubts about the Lebanese expatriate financier, whose sources of wealth I do not know! But I believe in Imam Ali’s saying: “No wealth is acquired except from scarcity or forbidden things”! Sorry, I don’t mean to be insulting, and I may be wrong. Returning to Sarafand, what is the interest of the political party controlling the village, whose behavior was offensive to a family with leftist leanings, to the point of exercising violence that led to the expulsion of family members from the village? If you assume, as previously mentioned, that honoring is a kind of appreciation, will it be accompanied by an apology? The apology does not come from changing regional ideologies and policies! Rather, it is a value related to a moral path that characterizes the behaviors and actions of those belonging to a certain party! Asaad Saeed, whom Palestine knew before Lebanon, had humanitarian principles, and certainly would not have been accepted by a political party that exploited a religious symbol and teacher. He was founding and contributing to building a cross-sectarian homeland (before his absence) with Bishop Gregoire Haddad, whom the church called “Bishop” for his patriotism. the Red”!
I do not think about the form of my conspiracies, but I am certain that when corruption enters the minds of a certain group, it destroys all areas (political/social/religious…). I would like to say to the honorees: Asaad Saeed is not just a talented poet. Rather, his poetry was filled with ideas that he derived from his readings. He used to spend about 16 hours reading! He expressed himself in poetry:
“Yesterday I was dreaming of the moon draping my sari
I drink from illusions and ruminate on my thoughts
Today my sleep has gone and the dream has become awake
Thought has become a weapon poured into a word
Yesterday I was desperate for my idea
Today, I feel sorrow, and my grief is green hope
..
I demolished the ivory tower and took to the street
I rise with the waves, I advance and struggle.”
The truest word said at the festival of honor was the word of Fadi Saeed, son of the poet, and I will mention from it:
“My father did not leave us any livelihood or money
Asaad left more, as he passed away
Bey gave us a name for generations
And his name is “all over the world.”
By the way, I would like to point out a poem written by the poet, sung by Marcel Khalife, and which was part of a play by Yacoub Al-Chadrawi: “An Unlicensed Rural Picnic.” The lyrics of the song summarize the stages of Lebanon’s history:…from Turkey to the rule of France / to the rule of the Lebanese formula..
In the manner of poetic dialogue, I would like to tell the poet a tragic response to his poem “Our Story is a Country Picnic,” and the poem tells about the state of our identity that we have unfortunately reached:
“He stopped at a walk and had no story
Lebanon has become very sad
We can’t eat kadushah
It’s ten o’clock and we’ll have a chance
The leaders occupied this castle
It does not quench the ambitions of a swallow
Homeland is a tent with candlelight
And the shepherd poisoned this shill
They linked the homeland to large countries
And the leaders exaggerated this story
France planted this curriculum
Turkey did dubbing
We lost this identity
Instead of saying: Oh my brother
We started talking: Monsieur and Hajj
He concluded with the response that was placed on the memorial, which belongs to the poet Asaad Saeed:
Be careful, O sea, when it passes to your right
I am with poetry, yummi facing yummi
If I challenge you and sing, I will respond
Not with sand, with lulu, with your palm.
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