Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan
    I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan
    I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan
    Ebook161 pages45 minutes

    I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan

    By Eliza Griswold and Seamus Murphy

    4.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    I Am the Beggar of the World presents an eye-opening collection of clandestine poems by Afghan women.

    Because my love's American,
    blisters blossom on my heart.

    Afghans revere poetry, particularly the high literary forms that derive from Persian or Arabic. But the poem above is a folk couplet—a landay, an ancient oral and anonymous form created by and for mostly illiterate people: the more than 20 million Pashtun women who span the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. War, separation, homeland, love—these are the subjects of landays, which are brutal and spare, can be remixed like rap, and are powerful in that they make no attempts to be literary.

    From Facebook to drone strikes to the songs of the ancient caravans that first brought these poems to Afghanistan thousands of years ago, landays reflect contemporary Pashtun life and the impact of three decades of war. With the U.S. withdrawal in 2014 looming, these are the voices of protest most at risk of being lost when the Americans leave.

    After learning the story of a teenage girl who was forbidden to write poems and set herself on fire in protest, the poet Eliza Griswold and the photographer Seamus Murphy journeyed to Afghanistan to learn about these women and to collect their landays. The poems gathered in I Am the Beggar of the World express a collective rage, a lament, a filthy joke, a love of homeland, an aching longing, a call to arms, all of which belie any facile image of a Pashtun woman as nothing but a mute ghost beneath a blue burqa.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateSep 9, 2014
    ISBN9781466880665
    I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan
    Author

    Seamus Murphy

    Seamus Murphy has documented life and change around the world. He has won seven World Press Photo awards for work from Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, Gaza, Lebanon, Peru, Ireland and England. His depiction of Afghanistan and the Afghans over more than a decade was published as a book, A Darkness Visible: Afghanistan.

    Read more from Eliza Griswold

    Related to I Am the Beggar of the World

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      A Broad Perspective

      Sep 1, 2022

      The Window Seat: Notes from a Life in Motion by Aminatta Forna. Grove Press, 2021, $26.00 cloth. LAST YEAR, when I looked for The Window Seat, Aminatta Forna's 2021 collection of essays, it wasn't available at my branch library. So instead I checked

      6 min read

    • Article

      Seven Poems

      Sep 1, 2021

      The dancersIn a terribly brightLight blue gauzeRetained the mystery Skating on a lakeBlue and iceAn illusionary timeWhere poetry feels inevitable The terrific clownWho lies insideEvery blue dressDoes he see me Always a starAlways a rootHorrible auras

      2 min read

    • Article

      Ishion Hutchinson

      Jun 8, 2021

      Tremor in his hands. He turns obsoleteleaves edged with thunder since the opening scene.What he sees he reads under croton shade,out in the sun. Restless peninsula,dog-eared, melting off into the blue.The blue breaks white as hallucination,more hagga

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Language the Poet Knows

      Dec 11, 2018

      The Language the Poet Knows
      4 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      I’ve seen enough films where a character nickshimself shaving or maybe has a bread knife slip and the thinrun of blood is supposed to stand for some violence,for something he did and is desperateto cover up, but the truth will out—I’ve seen enough th

      2 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems by Sheri Benning

      Mar 9, 2021

      the baby, name lost. 1906. Spring born,almond and blackthorn in bloom. Meadowsweet,chickweed, petals of milk on her lips. Spider-silk saliva from mouth to crab apple fists,on Mother’s lap, the train from Kiev to Minskafter the last harvest in Tiegeno

      2 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Mar 15, 2022

      a ghost is hangingfrom the doorpostof our past— can you see it?it has wounds—it’s bleedingyears from its mouth [.] when we left ourhouses that aprilit was for history’s pleasure— twice the war wasin far-flung townsthen it grew a light foot and veered

      1 min read

    • Article

      Restless Herd

      Apr 14, 2021

      Restless Herd
      21 min read

    • Article

      Flowers in Vases

      Mar 15, 2022

      Flowers in Vases
      1 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Jesse Nathan

      Jun 8, 2021

      Young gray cat puddled under the boxwood,Only the eyes alert. Appressed to dirt. That hissThe hiss of the grasses hissing What shouldWhat should. Blank road shimmers. On days like this,My mind, you hardlySeem to be.On days like these. No, no. See tha

      1 min read

    • Article

      Reconsidering Pablo Neruda in Light of ‘The Poet’s Calling’

      Jun 4, 2018

      When Pablo Neruda was expelled from France in 1952, he wrote this to his beloved countrymen in Chile: “The future of humanity may be endangered in the hands of a few evil men, but it does not belong to them. The future of man is ours, because we are

      4 min read

    • Article

      Mountain Time

      Jan 1, 2021

      In the air you don’t know who you are or where My own self feels it is in wind being born These are currents a man made one eighth of smokeless fire fears but chooses A path south from Anchorage to a Mountain House Ungovern the northern land to pass

      10 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Mar 1, 2022

      i look like someonehealing from an accidentbecause i am someonehealing from an accidentthe book of actsscales falling from saul’s eyesremembering my capacityfor stillnesshow long can i sitwithout looking awaythe fear of god escapingi desperately need

      3 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      The painting is of a door, its wood so warpedwith moisture it cannot close. It stays ajar leaving a sliver of light—enough to suggestsomething sweet and almost unreachable behind the door—and you sit in yourroom working on the bills or those comforti

      4 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      May 1, 2023

      At the end of the world, I sat in the dark waiting for you,but you didn’t come. You didn’t save me. At the end we are always alone, candles slowlyburning out, losing the flame for lack of oxygen. You didn’t tell me it would be like this. All of itcam

      2 min read

    • Article

      Some Of The Men We Love Are Terrorists

      Jan 1, 2022

      & honestly, i have no solutions—our world a mad swarm of bees. forgive me my own devotion, the handsome clench. my first love masters a sinister arithmetic; his patrilineage swelling like a heavy god between his legs. i’m well-conditioned, my hands a

      1 min read

    • Article

      Be Bold

      Jun 12, 2019

      Be Bold
      12 min read

    • Article

      Devil Asks Why You Would Mouth The Word Pity

      Jul 1, 2022

      even in this abundance of dark? Even in this abundance of dark you have totake the stars on faith. Look: Under today’s dim sky there is a basket.In that basket there is a fish. Come night, you are the animal that will eat the best parts of it. And ye

      1 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for I Am the Beggar of the World

    4.5/5

    15 ratings1 review

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5
      Landays are short poems (usually sang and not recited) which have exactly 22 syllables - 9 in their first line and 13 in the second one, and always finish with -na or -ma. They don't get written and invented as much as they get changed and modified with time - they are part of the oral tradition of the Pashtun women who live mainly in Afghanistan, near the border with Pakistan. As girls in these area get pulled out from school very young and get locked into a house until they get married (after which they get locked in a different house), these poems become their only connection to the external world and to any kind of knowledge. There are some landays sang by men but most of them are only ever uttered by women. And they get adapted - most women know hundreds of them and by replacing words and contexts, they can be made relevant in many situations - the old ones singing of the British are not about the Americans, technology slowly shows up in them (these days they get exchanged as text messages or on facebook or other online platforms - the author traced a series of them on a facebook page which would have taken decades to get changed that way in the old world but now took hours). And even if they are everywhere, most women hide them - they are considered a bad thing in the very strict Islamic world of Afghanistan; the drums that were used to keep the rhythm while women sang them to each other had been outlawed and women can get in serious trouble when they sing them. Eliza Griswold decided to collect some of these poems because of a young woman who set herself on fire to escape her world. That young woman used to belong to an illegal female literary group which uses the radio to share poetry - their own, landays and anything in between. Meeting the women who sing them in the middle of a war zone was never going to be easy (and with her not speaking the language, her translators were young women and in the society they live in, they often needed to be explained what some of the more baudy poems said.) Getting the women to trust her enough to actually share them was even harder. And then came the translation - because of their very formal requirement on length, they are usually almost obscure and trying to render them in English (or any other language) is not easy (even if you do not try to keep the number of syllables in tact - which these translations don't). The process was a kind of double translation - the translator into English, word by word, then Griswold into something which is understandable as English. That process meant discarding some which just could not work in English - too flowery, too abstract or too hard to figure out.So what do the Pashtun women sing about? Pretty much everything. Some of these couplets are almost pornographic (in a flowery way mostly). Some of them are violent and wish for someone's death. Some of them describe the stark reality they live in. And some are optimistic and hopeful. Griswold adds notes on the symbolism and meaning of some of the images in a lot of these small poems. Her notes also trace how these were found and heard, painting a picture of the life of the women of the country. Seamus Murphy adds a lot of photographs of Afghanistan in the early 21st century - a country in the middle of a war. I wish some of these were not just black and white - while for some the lack of color enhances them, some probably would be a lot more effective if they were in color. The poems themselves are not that impressive as poetry, not in English anyway. They sound almost mundane or like clever puns. But add to that their back story, add the story of the women who sing them and they become a lot more. They are the literature of a population which is essentially illiterate and kept that way; the voice of the women who have no other voice that anyone bothers to listen to. And they tell the stories of their lives - of the fact that a Pashtun woman should never show that she is in love (or she is considered a fallen woman), of their inability to sing (singers are considered to be prostitutes), of their longings and desires - and not only from the romantic types. They are the couplets that mothers sing when their sons get killed in the war or when they disappear in a jail. These are the words that allow the voiceless to scream. Even if you do not care about the poetry, the book is worth it because of the background and the photographs. But don't dismiss these short poems - they stay with you and haunt you. Some will make you chuckle, some will make you laugh and some will make your heart bleed. But then, isn't that exactly how poetry is supposed to work?

    Book preview

    I Am the Beggar of the World - Eliza Griswold

    The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.

    Contents

    Title Page

    Copyright Notice

    Dedication

    1. Love

    2. Grief / Separation

    3. War / Homeland

    About the Photographs

    Acknowledgments

    Also by Eliza Griswold

    Copyright

    FOR ASMA SAFI

    Grateful acknowledgment is made to Poetry magazine and to the Harriet Monroe Poetry Institute. Portions of this book originally appeared, in different form, in Poetry’s Landays issue.

    I call. You’re stone.

    One day you’ll look and find I’m gone.

    The teenage poet who uttered this folk poem called herself Rahila Muska. She lived in Helmand, a Taliban stronghold and one of the most restive of Afghanistan’s thirty-four provinces since the U.S. invasion began on October 7, 2001. Muska, like many young and rural Afghan women, wasn’t allowed to leave her home. Fearing that she’d be kidnapped or raped by warlords, her father pulled her out of school after the fifth grade. In her community, as in others, educating girls was seen as dishonorable as well as dangerous. Poetry, which she learned at home from women and on the radio, became her only continuing education.

    In Afghan culture, poetry is revered, particularly the high literary forms that derive from Persian or Arabic. But the poem above is a folk couplet—a landay—an oral and often anonymous scrap of song created by and for mostly illiterate people: the more than twenty million Pashtun women who span the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Traditionally, landays are sung aloud, often to the beat of a hand drum, which, along with other kinds of music, was banned by the Taliban from 1996 to 2001, and in some places still is.

    A landay has only a few formal properties. Each has twenty-two syllables: nine in the first line; thirteen in the second. The poem ends with the sound ma or na. Sometimes landays rhyme, but more often not. In Pashto, they lilt internally from word to word in a kind of two-line lullaby that belies the sharpness of their content, which is distinctive not only for its beauty, bawdiness, and wit, but also for its piercing ability to articulate a common truth about love, grief, separation, homeland, and war. Within these five main tropes, the couplets express a collective fury, a lament, an earthy joke, a love of home, a longing for an end to separation, a call to arms, all of which frustrate any facile image of a Pashtun woman as nothing but a mute ghost beneath a blue burqa.

    The subjects of landays, from the Aryan caravans that likely brought these poems to Afghanistan thousands of years ago* to ongoing U.S. drone strikes, are remixed like rap, with old words swapped for newer, more relevant ones.

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1