Revisit with the SOLIDARITY ENCOUNTER

                                   of january 21 2016

Success beyond imagination. Over 100 people responded to the call of Dominique Sorrente, seconded by Richard Martin, in support of the palestinian poet Ashraf Fayad, condemned to death for apostasy in Saoudi Arabia, in November 2015. An attentive & solidaire public met in the lounge Léo Ferré of the Toursky theatre to share this encounter organised by the Sciptorium, and co-organised with the Toursky theatre, the Union of Poets & co and the review of the Archers.

Rather than formal speeches, a moment in three time : sign posts, traces, evocations. Dominique Sorrente set the tone in his opening remarks, pleading for poetic liberty against the golden calves of our age, and more specifically, religious derailment and rhetorical propaganda. « We cannot remain arms folded, in face of this unjust decision, this act profoundly directed against poetic liberty. Beyond petitions, we have searched the proper way to react with our meagre means, a time of poetic fervour….. » declared the organiser of the evening.

There followed brief but intense interventions by Richard Martin of the Toursky, Brigitte Gyr of the Union of Poets & co, Henri-Frédéric Blanc for the review of the Archers, and Isabelle Pellegrini of the Scriptorium. As the evening was to be foremost a moment of sharing and of action in poetry, one could hear the poems incriminated by the Saudi judges, drawn from the « Internal Instructions » of Ashraf Fayad, followed by the reading at multivoices of a beautiful text of the syrian poet Abou Afach, with some fragments in arabic. The italian poetess Viviane Ciampi, who especially for this occasion came from Genoa, shared a text of Erri di Luca with a captivating personal performance.

The other art forms were present for the evening : the plastic arts with the slide show of calligraphies « giclure » of Hamid Tibouchi projected to the back of the stage ; music via the tonic Ghani and his Kabylie-Marseille group, followed by Abdelsattar on the oud, as well as the singer Christian Donati interpreting Bernard Dimey. The « Ivres Vivants » trio presented an original creation dedicated to Ashraf Fayad «  I am the archer of words » pronounced with fervour and gravity by Lionel Mazari, accompanied by the hear-warming voice of Audrey Gambassi, with Dominique Sorrente on guitar, for a captivating finale by the trio on the song of « The Poets », veritable hymn written by Aragon in other circumstances set to music by Jean Ferrat, which remains so relevant in our troubled times : «  A wailfull song rises from a full throat/ is it towards the Hölderin star/ is it towards the Verlaine star…. »

There remained the challenge of combining the vibrations of the moment with the desire for tangible practical action. This was executed in simple words by a young exiled palestinian representing Amnesty International.

The evening stretched over two hours, out of the ordinary world. It was a distinct life moment, well expressed by one of the participants over the friendly drinks following the presentations : It really warms the heart for him, the condemned poet, and for all of us who wish to continue to hope ». A moment of hope against an exceptional violence. At the start of the evening, Dominique Sorrente gave encouraging news ; he heard that the saudi judges of Abha had just delayed, two days before this reunion, their decision on the recourse requested by the lawyer of Ashraf Fayad. A fragile indication but in the right direction, showing a possible hesitation of the judges, and likely of the Saudi government, in face of the international protests on this cause.

The gathering of support held in Marseille, at the initiative of the poetry association The Scriptorium, is only the third such meeting in France to-date, following those organised by official institutions, the Maison de la Poétrie of Paris and the University of Strasbourg. An example for other cities and regions, a proof that civil actions can have non-negligable impact in this domain. Marseille, by this gesture of a few, has shown that far from trivial quarrels, ever more insignificant, the spirit of solidarity in poetry exists.

Reminder : the petition is ongoing. It has reached 190 000 signatures to-date. You can sign it under Ashraf Fayad on the web site change.org

The objective of the evening was to sensibilise as wide a public as possible to lead to annulment of the sanction, and pay tribute to the poetic voice in all its forms in this human dynamics.

And also, to send a message of solidarity via poetry from Marseille to Ashraf Fayad.

                                                      Sophie Leenknegt    

                     (translated from french by Maurice Frojmovic) 

Photo credits of this noteblog: Lino Cannizzaro 

                                                               *

To go further, consult the article in french by Maryvonne Colombani in the journal ZIBELINE

http://www.journalzibeline.fr/societe/ne-tirez-pas-sur-le-poete/

COMMENTARIES

A lovely and unforgetable evening of solidarity in Marseille for the poet Ashraf Fayad condemned to death for apostasy. It was only the third in France of a long series that will unfold world-wide. For are not poets also « sentinels » charged with the defence of liberty, draped in modest dress which is their voice, brought together by the spirit of anxiety ?

Written by : viviane ciampi / 30 january 2016

How well the poetic voice can still burn in this world. It is our duty to keep its flame alive.

Written by : Lucchesi Jacques / 01 february 2016

Ces deux poèmes nous ont été confiés par la poète italienne Viviane Ciampi lors de la rencontre de solidarité avec A.Fayad, le 21 janvier 2016, à Marseille, rencontre pour laquelle elle avait fait tout spécialement le déplacement de Gênes avec le photographe Lino Cannizzaro.      

                                                                          photo: Lino Cannizzaro

TOUT SE TAIT

                                   Où te promènes-tu sans passé ni mémoire 

te caches-tu sous mes pieds toi qu’on nomme le-si-bien-caché

ou dans l’avion du ciel cou tendu, très tendu vers le bas

serres-tu les poings viendras-tu me chercher

à la Gare de la Débâcle  

je n’ai pas rencontré les lanceurs de couteaux

ni bu le sang versé dans la plaine ni collé l’oreille au parloir des prisons

mais ce matin quand j’allais au lavoir l’eau n’était plus limpide

elle reflétait les traces de la barbarie les fils de l’ogre maléfique

ce qui demeure enfoui sous la muraille du monde.

Une clef gisait au fond mais qui aurait pu la prendre, qui. 

Le sais-tu j’ai failli me quitter – non non – disais-tu.

Le cercle des mouches m’attendait déjà j’ai crié ton nom si fort mais si fort

que toutes les vaches se sont retournées avec leurs bons yeux de vaches.

Que pouvaient-elles comprendre. Là, au fond de l’eau j’ai aperçu

les poètes dont l’ombre est la semence qui navigue de mot en mot, de mot en silence

ceux qui pendus – corde encore brûlante – nous apostrophent

de toute leur force debout. Écoute. Le temps éclate dans les veines.

Litanie d’enfance interrompue. Alors, quelle vision. Si jamais la démence… la démence…

                     C’est à eux désormais que je m’adresse.

TUTTO TACE

                                 Dove stai aggirandoti privo di passato memoria

ti nascondi sotto i miei piedi te che chiamano il-così-ben-nascosto

o dentro l’aereo del cielo collo teso molto teso verso il basso

stringi i pugni verrai a cercarmi alla Stazione del Tracollo

non ho incontrato i lanciatori di coltello

né ho bevuto il sangue versato nella pianura né ho incollato l’orecchio al parlatorio

ma stamattina andando al lavatoio l’acqua non era più limpida

rifletteva le tracce della barbarie i figli dell’orco malefico

ciò che rimane sepolto sotto le mura del mondo.

Una chiave giaceva sul fondo ma chi avrebbe potuto prenderla, chi.

Tu lo sai quasi mi stavo lasciando – no no – dicevi.

il cerchio delle mosche già mi attendeva, forte ho gridato il tuo nome, ma così forte

che tutte le vacche si sono voltate coi loro begli occhi di vacche.

Che cosa potevano capire. Lì, in fondo all’acqua

ho intravisto i poeti la cui ombra è semenza che naviga di parola in parola, di parola in silenzio

coloro che impiccati – corda ancora rovente – ci interpellano con tutta la loro forza in piedi.

Ascolta. Il tempo scoppia nelle vene.

Litania d’infanzia interrotta. Allora, quale visione. E se la follia… Se la follia…

                                                     È a loro che mi rivolgo d’ora in poi.

                                                           Viviane Ciampi

                        (TRADUIT DE L’ITALIEN PAR L’AUTEURE)

VALORI

Considero valore ogni forma di vita, la neve, la fragola, la mosca.
Considero valore il regno minerale, l'assemblea delle stelle.
Considero valore il vino finché dura il pasto, un sorriso involontario,
la stanchezza di chi non si è risparmiato, due vecchi che si amano.
Considero valore quello che domani non varrà più niente e quello 
che oggi vale ancora poco.
Considero valore tutte le ferite.
Considero valore risparmiare acqua, riparare un paio di scarpe,
tacere in tempo, accorrere a un grido, chiedere permesso prima di sedersi,
provare gratitudine senza ricordare di che.
Considero valore sapere in una stanza dov'è il nord,
qual è il nome del vento che sta asciugando il bucato.
Considero valore il viaggio del vagabondo, la clausura della monaca,
la pazienza del condannato, qualunque colpa sia.
Considero valore l'uso del verbo amare e l'ipotesi che esista un creatore.
Molti di questi valori non ho conosciuto.

Valeur

J’attache de la valeur à toute forme de vie, à la neige, la fraise, la mouche.

J’attache de la valeur au règne animal et à la république des étoiles.

J’attache de la valeur au vin tant que dure le repas, au sourire involontaire, à la fatigue de celui qui ne s’est pas épargné,  à deux vieux qui s’aiment.

J’attache de la valeur à ce qui demain ne vaudra plus rien et à ce qui aujourd’hui vaut encore peu de chose.

J’attache de la valeur à toutes les blessures.

J’attache de la valeur à économiser l’eau, à réparer une paire de souliers,

à se taire à temps, à accourir à un cri, à demander la permission avant de s’asseoir, à éprouver de la gratitude sans se souvenir de quoi.

J’attache de la valeur à savoir où se trouve le nord dans une pièce, quel est le nom du vent en train de sécher la lessive.

J’attache de la valeur à l’usage du verbe aimer et à l’hypothèse qu’il existe un créateur.

Bien de ces valeurs, je ne les ai pas connues.

Erri de Luca, poème extrait de Œuvre sur l’eau. Traduit de l’italien par Danièle Valin, éditions Seghers, 2002.

Cité dans Tout doit disparaître (chapitre 8), Mikaël Ollivier. Ed. Thierry Magnier, 2007.

           Un jour à part avec Emily Dickinson et le vent

1152-

The Wind took up the Northern Things

And piled them in the South –

Then gave the East unto the West

And opening his mouth

The Four Divisions of the Earth

Did make as to devour

While everything to corner slunk

Behind the awful power –

The Wind unto his Chamber went

And nature ventured out –

Her subjects scattered into place

Her systems ranged about

Again the smoke from Dwelling rose

The Day abroad was heard

How initiate a Tempest past

The Transport of the Bird –

Le Vent a emporté les Choses du Nord

Et les a empilées au Sud –

Puis il a donné l’Est à l’Ouest

En ouvrant la bouche

Fait comme s’il allait dévorer

Les Quatre Points Cardinaux

Tandis que tout se faufilait dans les coins

Derrière cette puissance terrible –

Le Vent est retourné dans ses Appartements

Et la nature s’est risquée à sortir –

Ses sujets se sont éparpillés pour retrouver leur place

Ses créatures ont parcouru le pays

À nouveau la fumée s’est élevée des Habitations

On a entendu du Monde dehors

Comme il est intime, une fois la Tempête passée

Le Délire de joie de l’Oiseau –

                               Emily Dickinson –

                 Poésies complètes 1866

       traduction par Françoise Delphy

                            ( Flammarion)

 Pour prolonger la (re)découverte, voir la note sur la lecture donnée par Joëlle Vinciarelli et Alain Freixe, « Emilie Dickinson, une âme en incandescence (1830-1886) » donné au Non-Lieu à Marseille, le 28 mai à 20h30.