“One morning, long ago, juice from an apple dripped onto my words, leaving them stained forever. “ – From “A Soulful Sunshine” Jalal Barzanji’s poetry willingly mutates his native Kurdish experiences into the global. In the tradition of Taslima Nasrin, Adonis, Yehuda Amichai, and Mahmoud Darwish, he speaks with the authority of exile, of the tension that exists between home and an adoptive land, of that delicate dance of defiance in the face of censorship and oppression. Barzanji’s poetry is infused with the richness of the Middle East, but underneath, there are also strands of Baudelaire, Rimbaud and T.S. Eliot. It is here, in these moments where language and culture collide and co-operate that Barzanji finds a voice that in its insistence on remaining true to itself, carves out a strong voice of opposition to political oppression. Barzanji will draw readers to his work again and again, the way in which we return to a favourite canvas.
Jalal Barzanji (born 1953 in Arbil northern of Iraq) is a contemporary Kurdish poet and writer.
He has served on the board of Writers' Union and was Executive Director of Ministry of Culture in Iraqi Kurdistan. He left Iraqi-Kurdistan in 1996 due to an ongoing civil war in Kurdistan. He has been living in Canada since 1998 after escaping Iraq where he was tortured and imprisoned because of his writings from 1986 to 1989. He was appointed as the Edmonton-PEN Canada Writer-in-Exile for the period 2007-2008.[1] He helped establish the Canadian Kurdish Friendship Association and the Edmonton Immigrant Support Network Society. He has published six books of poetry and was the 2004 recipient of aRISE award. He is due to publish a memoir sometime in October 2011. In the memoir Barzanji writes about his imprisonment in 1986-1989, during which time he endured torture under Saddam Hussein’s regime because of his literary and journalistic achievements—writing that openly explores themes of peace, democracy, and freedom. For those three years, Barzanji wrote only on scrap paper, smuggled into his cell in Iraq. He wrote his memoir during his time as the first Writer In Exile of PEN Canada.
It’s a losing battle: my words have no chance against time. Sometimes, unable to catch up with imagination, I leave the battle, candle in hand, in complete darkness. * I’m still trying to bridge the distance between my heart and my new place. * That night, the wind returned wings to butterflies; the orchards were full of kisses. One again, I had to rely on the kindness of words.
Glad I got to read this book before my trip, however it was scattered and there’s a lot poetry’s here. This was the first time I ever read a book from a Kurdish perspective, I hope the author is living his better life in Canada and that his future is better than his past‼️