26 April - 2 May 2001
Issue No.531
|
Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 26 April - 2 May 2001 Issue No.531 |
||
| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 | Current issue | Previous issue | Site map | ||
It is 15 years since the death of Egyptian artist, poet and cartoonist Salah Jahin (b. 25 December 1930 - d. 21 April1986). To mark the occasion George Bahgory remembers, in words and drawing, the late artist and Al-Ahram Weekly offers a new translation of his poem September Tunes, written following the death of President Gamal Abdel-Nasser
Salah Jahin: Balzac holding Rodin's chisel
DEPICTING the spherical nature of his face, I feel like a child who grasps a coloured pencil for the first time to inscribe a circle on the page. It is that simple an exercise, and that fascinating. The spheres that make up his face are in constant motion. Observing the micro-dynamics of his expression is like watching a football match in which he is the centre-forward, the goal keeper, the man of the match and the referee -- all at the same time.
As I sit before him in Rose El-Youssef's incredibly modest, incredibly opulent artists' office, the drawing table in front of me, I am enthralled. The child-like quality of his character, his work, his aspect, turns me, too, into a child doodling with coloured pencils. Nothing more.
"The essence of creativity is child's play": his motto has the sheen of truth, but the words "child's play" imply not frivolity but vitality and joy.
He dismounts from his desk, as it were, like a knight at arms, holding a tiny scrap of paper that he calls "a quatrain". He looks around for his friend and peer, the artist Bahgat, but no one is to be found in the office past midnight except me. He places it in front of me. Silently, I read it, while he watches my face expectantly:
"My heart was once a rattle, is now a bell..."
September Tunes
The film stopped, frozen
Now we can ponder the image
No detail missing.
Everything speaks, articulate
wordless, voiceless.
The instant death pushed down --
gentle yet omnipotent, one desultory day --
On a button in this kingdom
The film stopped, frozen.
[...]
Let the projectionist rewind the scene
I want to see myself in the old days -- young
among the ranks of the revolution -- proud,
Impressed by neither king nor father
I want to see again and remember
Why one of my blows hit,
one of them missed
And one stopped the film, froze it.
The projectionist said: No return
Live as long as you have breath enough to live
And look and see.
Where the young sit -- row after row --
Where the young sit in the cinema whistling
No stopping.
Where the young sit there are a thousand million
Impressed by neither king nor father.
Look at them
And you will remember
Extracted from Jahin's Angham Sebtembariya
© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
| ARCHIVES Letter from the Editor Editorial Board Subscription Advertise! |
WEEKLY ONLINE: www.ahram.org.eg/weekly Updated every Saturday at 11.00 GMT, 2pm local time weeklyweb@ahram.org.eg |
 Al-Ahram Organisation |
Recommend this page