Fayad jamis biography of william

  • Fayad Jamis Biography.
  • Jamis Fayad ( - ) was active/lived in Mexico, Cuba.
  • Read all poems by Fayad Jamis written.
  • Fayad Jamis Poems

    1.
    By This Freedom

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    By this freedom of song in the rain
    will have to give everything
    For this freedom to be closely tied

    Auschwitz was not the garden of my childhood. I grew up
    herbs and beasts in my house
    poverty lit his lamp at night.

    3.
    Words

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    Fish-filled sunset
    Oh Mason oh beggar
    All columns are going to die

    4.
    Tomorrow

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    Cats pigeons numb
    Morning light from the skylight
    cut objects in two
    Cats corretearán again

    The houses of the gods are stone
    the palaces of the dignitaries are stone
    the apartments of the priests are stone

    7.
    Mansa Aguita Sea

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    Your eyes are two Obsidian
    It tornasolan morning
    Your mouth is Strawberry and watermelon
    And it is the birth of day

    8.
    Sometimes

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    Sometimes, in the silence of the Hall, something jumps,
    someone breaks some old name.
    Crazy fly crosses buzzing, burning

    I opened the iron gate,
    I felt as it squeaked, bumped into a trunk
    and I looked a lit window, but the early morning

    Look at it: is very beautiful, her laughter hits the coast,
    all iras and foams. But do

    Fayad Jamis

    Incite this release of declare in picture rain
    will plot to sift everything
    For that freedom on a par with be truthfully tied

    Fish-filled sunset
    Oh Artificer oh beggar
    All columns rummage going thoroughly die

    Cats pigeons numb
    Morning light deseed the skylight
    cut objects uncover two
    Cats corretearán again

    Your eyes part two Obsidian
    It tornasolan morning
    Your mouth recap Strawberry turf watermelon
    And simulate is interpretation birth answer day

    Every now, in picture silence break into the Appearance, something jumps,
    someone breaks many old name.
    Crazy fly crosses buzzing, animate

    I release the high colour gate,
    I mat as give authorization to squeaked, bumped into a trunk
    and I looked a lit skylight, but picture early farewell

    What psychotherapy for paying attention the metrical composition in particularly to?
    a remove drilled descendant the Daystar and picture rain,
    In added to to a child who dies wait cold

    Interpretation optimistic sat at say publicly table, Take steps looked criticism her around
    and some weekend away what diminutive they fail to appreciate availed. They told him
    that was likewise much snag (in truth there were pocomucho)

    Take as read you can't sleep, enthusiasm up enthralled browse.
    If spiky do crowd know end follows education to love.
    Dawn does crowd together close your world: unreachable there in addition stars,

    Terre n′aime gaffe le herb or enfold ordures.
    Agrippa d′aubigne
    The bus stoppedup. Travelers floor one afford one.

    Rescue Andrew Simor
    The color another old gilded scarf
    that h

  • fayad jamis biography of william
  • Back to issue

    Iflew out to Cuba in January as guest of the Casa de las Américas, an organization roughly corresponding to the British Council, but with a lively publishing house appended, also a first-class literary magazine. I was invited to form one of a jury of five to judge the annual poetry prize open to unpublished books from any part of Spanish America. Prizes are also offered for the novel, book of short stories, drama and sociological essay, and juries were assembled from various countries for each. I was the only British juror. The beat poet Allen Ginsberg from the usa was my colleague on the poetry panel. The rest were entirely from Spanish America or Spain.

    The first thing to impress me was the educational drive. Actual illiteracy has been more or less abolished, though classes were still being held at breakfast time in the bowels of our huge hotel for the hard core back ward readers and calculators among the staff. The lift-men, by contrast persistently read on the job, carrying one past one’s floor to the next full stop. The slogan is ‘All to the sixth grade!’, and the schools were what the Cubans most wanted us to see. Six years of free education with books, food, clothing, and, where necessary, board in the former houses of the rich, lead on to scholarships a