Italian poet, translator and editor Gioia Lomasti made an interview with Egyptian writer, editor and journalist Ashraf Aboul-Yazid on his latest publication “The Monk on the Gray Mountaintop”
Ashraf Aboul-Yazid / The cover photo by Kuwaiti artist Suleiman Haider, designed by artist Mustafa Barakat
Ashraf Aboul-Yazid (Ashraf Dali) – Egypt, is President, Asia Journalist Association (AJA), since April 2016, Editor in Chief, THE SILK ROAD LITERATURE SERIES, a member of Egyptian Writers Union, and the National Coordinator of World Poetry Movement (WPM) in Egypt. He won Manhae Grand Prize in Literature, Korea (2014), Arab Journalism Award in Culture, UAE (2015), The Gold Medal in LIFFT Eurasian Literary Festival, Istanbul, Turkey (2021), The Medal of Esteemed Patron of Arts, PAWA, Ibadan, Nigeria (2022), and Sawiris Cultural Award. Children Literature, Cairo, Egypt (2023).
This year marks 35 years since the publication of the first poetry collection by poet Ashraf Aboul-Yazid, and it seems that he is preparing to celebrate this occasion!
Indeed, next month, Al-Nasher Publishing House in Egypt, as part of the Silk Road Literature Series, will issue my collection (Poems), a Poetry Anthology (1989 - 2024), which includes poems from my first collection, “The Whisper of the Sea (1989), and the second, “The Shells.” (1996), the third is “The Memory of Silence” (2000), the fourth is “On the Path of Death” (2001), and the fifth is “The Memory of Butterflies” (2004), in addition to selections from two collections published previously in English, namely “The Maps of Mirage” (2013), and “The Monk on the gray mountaintop ” (2023).
Gioia Lomasti
I read and translated your poem “The Monk on the gray mountaintop” into Italian. What is the secret of your interest in this poem in particular?
The poem was written down in its final form on my sixtieth birthday, so I included it in the poetry collection. It comes in an appendix of 20 languages, with poetic translations in Translated from English to Sindhi by Nasir Aijaz, Sindh, Pakistan, to Persian by Alireza Bahrami, Iran, to English by Dr. Salwa Goda, Egypt, to French by Prof. Achour Fenni, Algeria, to Korean by (Cherry) Lee Yeon - Sil, Korea, to Chinese by Sue Zhu, NZ/China, to Spanish by Dr. Nadia Gamaleddin, Egypt, to Manipuri by Misna Chanu, India, to Turkish by Caroline Laurent Turunç, Turkey, to Indonesian by Lily Siti Multatuliana, Indonesia, to Serbian by Ana Stjelja, Serbia, to Bengali by Rezauddin Stalin, Bangladesh, to Russian by Eldar Akhadov, Russia- Azerbaijan, to Tajik by Abdukakhor Kosim, Tajikstan, Azerbaijani by Elmaya Cabbarova, Azerbaijan, to Armenian by Mariana Bertizlian, Syria, to Malyalam by Fayrouz Razia, India, to Kyrgyzstani by Sagyn Berkinalieva. Kyrgyzstan, to Urdu by Shabbir Soomro, Pakistan and – of course - to Italian by Alessia Angela Ferrari Dream, in collaboration with you dear Gioia Lomasti, Italy.
I think you have a wealth of translated poetry, right?
My collections have been translated into many languages, a total of 15 poetry collections have been published, including three collections in Persian, translated by Professor Nasreen Chakibi Mumtaz, and two in Spanish translated by Dr. Nadia Gamaleddin, and a collection of poems in Turkish, translated by Metin Fındıkçı, German, Serbian, translated by Dr. Ana Stjelja, Russian, translated by Eldar Akhadov, Azeri, translated by Tirana Muhammad, Sindhi, translated by Nasir Aijaz, Urdu, translated by Shabbir Soomro, and English which I translated its poems myself.
(The Monk on the gray mountaintop) calligraphy by the artist Dr. Yassin Harraz
Ashraf Aboul-Yazid |
The Monk on the gray mountaintop
Like a fugitive ibex
I jump between floating clouds over fields of hope
I wish you enchant me as a star
To rain.
I arrive to the gray mountaintop
The monk was waiting
With his temple that looks like a cloud
Over heading a skyscraper
To reach him
I walked for sixty stations
I do not remember from them but the worn names
And its empty seats
The monk asks me what I came across
Seven butterflies dancing while hugging a cocoon that is about to transform?
Ten roses were tearing a perfume of musk and vineyards?
A pond of water with the image of a bird with dragon wings?
An army of ten squirrels?
Five trees bear fruit apples of light?
A constellation of twenty galaxies?
An elephant raising his golden hodge?
Or a frog stretched its lips to a fleeing prince?
The monk looked at a bottle of water that I carry
It did not keep a drop
It was watering my lost steps.
He looks at my desperate face from seeing something
In a path that cruelty sealed its eyes
I had a one-way ticket
Would he give me a return ticket to search again?
Translated by Dr. Salwa Goda
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