Nazik Al-Malaika, an iconic Arabic poet, has played an instrumental role in transforming Arabic poetry from tradition to modernity. Born on this day August 23, 1923 in Iraq, Al-Malaika is most renowned for introducing free verse into Arabic poetry, a feat that had a profound and lasting impact on the form and style of Arabic literature.
Before Al-Malaika’s bold innovation, Arabic poetry was bound by stringent traditional forms, primarily the ‘qasida’ (a form of ode), which followed a strict pattern of rhythm and rhyme. However, Al-Malaika, eager to break free from these constraints and express herself more freely, introduced the concept of ‘tahrir’, or free verse, into Arabic poetry. This was a significant departure from the traditional norms and was initially met with resistance. However, her beautiful and thought-provoking compositions soon won over critics and readers alike.
Al-Malaika’s transformation of Arabic poetry was not solely structural; it was also thematic. She used her verse to explore complex themes such as love, death, exile, and the human condition – subjects that were not commonly tackled in traditional Arabic poetry. Her work was deeply emotive and often contained stark social commentary, marking a major shift from the more formal and impersonal nature of traditional Arabic verse.
Nazik Al-Malaika’s contribution to Arabic poetry is immeasurable. By introducing free verse and tackling complex themes in her work, she effectively ushered in an era of modernity in Arabic literature. Her innovative style not only transformed the face of Arabic poetry but also paved the way for future poets to express themselves more freely and explore a wider range of themes. Despite initial resistance, Al-Malaika’s impact on Arabic poetry is undeniable and her legacy continues to inspire poets around the world.
Elegy for a Woman of No Importance (or, images from a Baghdad alleyway)
She died, but no lips shook, no cheeks turned white
no doors heard her death tale told and retold,
no blinds were raised for small eyes to behold
the casket as it disappeared from sight.
Only a beggar in the street, consumed
by hunger, heard the echo of her life—
the safe forgetfulness of tombs,
the melancholy of the moon.
The night gave way to morning thoughtlessly,
and light brought with it sound—boys throwing stones,
a hungry, mewling cat, all skin and bones,
the vendors fighting, clashing bitterly,
some people fasting, others wanting more,
polluted water gurgling, and a breeze
playing, alone, upon the door
having almost forgotten her.
-Nazik Al-Malaika, Translated by Emily Drumsta
Curated by Jennifer