Poem #21. You are beautiful, like a liberated homeland [أَنتِ جَمِيلَةٌ كَوَطَنٍ مُحَرَّر]

Love and War; By the Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti [مريد البرغوثي], translated by The Scholar.

Photo by Cole Keister on Unsplash

[Standard Translation]

You are beautiful, like a liberated homeland
And I am tired like an occupied homeland
You are sorrowful like one forsaken, still resisting
And I am roused like an impending war
You are craved for like the ceasing of the raids
And I am torn of heart as a seeker between the ruins
You are bold like a pilot in training
And I am proud like his grandmother
You are anxious, as though the parent of the convalescent
And I am the calmness of a nurse
You are tender, like a drizzle
And I need you to grow
The both of us, reckless as revenge
The both of us, gentle, like forgiveness
You are strong like the columns of the court
and I am astonished as the wronged
And whenever we met
We talked without end, like two lawyers
About the world
أَنتِ جَمِيلَةٌ كَوَطَنٍ مُحَرَّر
وَأَنا مُتْعَبٌ كَوَطَنٍ مُحْتَلّ
أَنتِ حَزِينَةٌ كَمَخْذُولٍ يُقَاوِم
وَأَنا مُسْتَنهَضٌ كَحَرْبٍ وَشِيكَة
أَنتِ مُشْتَهَاةٌ كَتَوَقُّفِ الْغَارَة
وَأَنا مَخْلُوعُ الْقَلْبِ كَالبَاحِثِ بَيْنَ الْأَنْقَاض
أَنتِ جَسُورَةٌ كَطَيَّارٍ يَتَدَرَّب
وَأَنا فَخُورٌ كَجَدَّتِهِ
أَنتِ مَلْهُوفَةٌ كَوَالِدِ الْمَرِيض
وَأَنا هَادِئٌ كَمُمَرِّضَة
أَنتِ حَنُونَةٌ كَالرَّذَاذ
وَأَنا أَحْتَاجُكِ لِأَنْمُو
كِلَانَا جَامِحٌ كَالاِنْتِقَام
كِلَانَا وَدِيعٌ كَالْعَفْو
أَنتِ قَوِيَّةٌ كَأَعْمِدَةِ الْمَحْكَمَة
وَأَنا مَدْهُوشٌ كَمَغْبُون
وَكُلَّمَا الْتَقَيْنَا
تَحَدَّثْنَا بِلا تَوَقُّفٍ، كَمُحَامِيَيْنِ
عَنِ الْعَالَم

[Translation With Romanization]

You are beautiful, like a liberated homeland
أَنتِ جَمِيلَةٌ كَوَطَنٍ مُحَرَّر
Anti jamilatun ka-watanin muharrar

And I am tired like an occupied homeland
وَأَنا مُتْعَبٌ كَوَطَنٍ مُحْتَلّ
Wa-ana mutabun ka-watanin muhtall

You are sorrowful like one forsaken, still resisting
أَنتِ حَزِينَةٌ كَمَخْذُولٍ يُقَاوِم
Anti hazinatun ka-makhdhulin yuqawim

And I am roused like an impending war
وَأَنا مُسْتَنهَضٌ كَحَرْبٍ وَشِيكَة
Wa-ana mustanhadun ka-harbin washeekah

You are craved for like the ceasing of the raids
أَنتِ مُشْتَهَاةٌ كَتَوَقُّفِ الْغَارَة
Anti mushtahatun ka-tawaqqufi al-gharah

And I am torn of heart as a seeker between the ruins
وَأَنا مَخْلُوعُ الْقَلْبِ كَالبَاحِثِ بَيْنَ الْأَنْقَاض
Wa-ana makhluu al-qalbi ka-l-bahithi bayna al-anqad

You are bold like a pilot in training
أَنتِ جَسُورَةٌ كَطَيَّارٍ يَتَدَرَّب
Anti jasuratun ka-tayyarin yatadarrab

And I am proud like his grandmother
وَأَنا فَخُورٌ كَجَدَّتِهِ
Wa-ana fakhurun ka-jaddatihi

You are anxious, as though the parent of the convalescent
أَنتِ مَلْهُوفَةٌ كَوَالِدِ الْمَرِيض
Anti malhufatun ka-walidi al-marid

And I am the calmness of a nurse
وَأَنا هَادِئٌ كَمُمَرِّضَة
Wa-ana hadiun ka-mumarridah

You are tender, like a drizzle
أَنتِ حَنُونَةٌ كَالرَّذَاذ
Anti hanunatun ka-al-radhadh

And I need you to grow
وَأَنا أَحْتَاجُكِ لِأَنْمُو
Wa-ana ahtajuki li-anmu

The both of us, reckless as revenge
كِلَانَا جَامِحٌ كَالاِنْتِقَام
Kilana jamihun ka-al-intiqam

The both of us, gentle, like forgiveness
كِلَانَا وَدِيعٌ كَالْعَفْو
Kilana wadiun ka-al-afw

You are strong like the columns of the court
أَنتِ قَوِيَّةٌ كَأَعْمِدَةِ الْمَحْكَمَة
Anti qawiyyatun ka-amidati al-mahkamah

And I am astonished as the wronged
وَأَنا مَدْهُوشٌ كَمَغْبُون
Wa-ana madhhushun ka-maghboun

And whenever we met
وَكُلَّمَا الْتَقَيْنَا
Wa-kullama iltaqayna

We talked without end, like two lawyers
تَحَدَّثْنَا بِلا تَوَقُّفٍ، كَمُحَامِيَيْنِ
Tahaddathna bila tawaqqufin, ka-muhamiyayn

About the world
عَنِ الْعَالَم
Ani al-alam

[Scholars Notes]

Love and war. When these two elemental forces intertwine, they often give rise to something deeply powerful. This is exactly what we find in the work of Mourid Barghouti, the beloved Palestinian poet known for his heartfelt reflections on exile, memory, and identity.

In his poem "You Are Beautiful Like a Liberated Homeland", Barghouti turns the language of love into something larger, a haunting metaphor for longing and displacement. The beloved is not just a person but a symbol of Palestine itself, radiant and free. In contrast, the speaker carries the exhaustion and sorrow of a land still under occupation.

He draws out striking contrasts. Her strength is like the pillars of a courthouse. His heart is stunned like someone who has been wronged. Her gentleness feels like the light touch of drizzle, while his need for her seems essential, something he must have in order to grow. She is longed for like the silence that follows the end of a raid. He is left searching, like someone moving through ruins, trying to find what is left. Together, they embody both the wildness of revenge and the gentleness of forgiveness, holding the tension between resistance and reconciliation.

In a time when war feels imminent, as the world watches Israel and Iran edge closer to conflict, and we hold our breath for those we love, Barghouti reminds us that poetry endures where politics fail. In the ruins, he finds tenderness. In exile, he writes of love. And in the face of fear, he offers something quietly defiant:

hope.