Nawar Ahmad al-Shater
Born in Damascus, Nawar Ahmad al-Shater is Biology Teacher holds the degree of Bachelor of Science in Biology from Damascus University. She is Editor at “Arab Pens” Magazine; children’s literature writer at the Moroccan “Waz” Magazine for kids, published by Waz Institute for culture and sustainable development in Arabic, French, and Amaziegh. She also is the honorary member at “Fanani” Organization in The Balkans and Editor at “The Letter” academic and literary journal, issued by The Letter Institute for Literary Studies at Stardford University; Ambassador in Saudi Arabia at the Indian Cultural House; International representative at the International Center for Pyramid Studies in Egypt; International Peace Ambassador at the Coniba and Etmot Institute in Brazil and Member in Media and Publishing Committee for Peace, London.
Nawar Ahmad al-Shater is co-writer of ‘Women’s Noun of Troy’, ‘The Ontology of Expressive Narration’, ‘Arab Creators…A Thousand Pens’, ‘The Last Call’, ‘The Encyclopedia of Arab Poets’, ‘Blue Anxiety’, and ‘The Arab Now’.
Her published Works include ‘Cooing of a Heart’, ‘Shining Planet’ and ‘Did My Poetry Reach You?’
The road was killed
No longer works
Or cosmetic surgery
They all failed.
With black pus
Her white veil fell
Today our eyesight is iron
But the hands are very short
Sold in the slave market
As a slave
She was the one who was born
And she was never a prostitute!
Its simplicity is the prayer of the prophets
Its evening is the gateway to heaven
Its fields are rebellious perfumes
It smells of freedom
Her voice is a river of wings
For the minarets of peace
And the bells of love
Spikes of tears,
Braids of sunlight
In the ashes of a dream
Betrayal is their naked body
Except for a torn garment of honor!
The trumpet played
Its heavy melodies
At the table of the last supper
Al-Aqsa Mosque is crying
The Church of the Resurrection groans
Sadness comes in overwhelming torrents
In the homes of Palestine
The stones threaten
In olive groves
They drink victory
They sing psalms
Let the children of Zion rejoice in their kingdom
Go around it, count its towers.
Set your hearts on its foundations
Islam slept on our eyelids
The cemeteries swallowed chivalry
Silence is a living coffin
Arabism is crucified in a land
Whose courage was defeated
When will he announce his resurrection,
These are not the dreams of a jasmine bush
Woven by a childish imagination
Palestine is a cause for humanity
Not poetic seasons
But our salty seasons
All wounds, revolt
It’s too late to mourn!
Engrave the red freedom
Break through all the doors.