Syria | Raghad Isa | 2023

Pales­tine

How can I ever start to speak of you?
Shall I talk about a country, children, mothers?
I can’t pin my feelings for you down.

Syria | Raghad Isa | 2023

Sil­ver Gold

Silver… gold… silver… gold…

She was seventy-nine
My neighbour

Iraq | Mustafa Aliesa | 2023

One of my dreams

Despite my family being so far away, my relatives too, and especially my mother, I dreamt at night of returning to them.

Syria | Mohamad Zahra | 2023

Falafel Dream

Syria | Mohamad Zahra | 2023

Home­land is a cemetery

They camped before the pearly gates and screamed,
just like the others screamed,
the others whose paths had strayed,
their screams had no identity.

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2023

In the New Year

I am not me.

I and this country I migrated to, we are not one.
I write and I object in my poetry.
And then I wait for answers
every night.

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2023

News Hound

Oh, Damascus,
In the middle of the night
The newspapers hound me
In the streets of Berlin and grasp me,

Libya | Salah Ali Ngab | 2018

Here and There

Between here and there
There is no difference
Believe me, humans are humans

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2018

Don’t Men­tion Me

Don’t write
That I am a refugee
I came to you with a life jacket
Without a suitcase

Iraq | Alan Halo | 2019

The Apple

I see a large garden
Vegetables and fruit everywhere
And my mother at its centre
She is planting a new apple tree

Syria | Rojin Namer | 2018

Dam­as­cus

How shall I describe Damascus?
How shall I describe paradise to those who do not know it?
Syria’s heart.
My soul.

Syria | Omran Fadel | 2018

I Stare Back

Arriving at the airport in Berlin.
I am alone among 1,000 people.
I have arrived.
And yet am still in Egypt with my family.

Syria | Abdallah Ghbash | 2019

Mem­o­ry tax

Where is God?
God is in Immigration Office.
Passport Department.

Syria | Omran Fadel | 2018

Vio­lence Like Stars in the Sky

In my homeland there is as much violence as there are stars in the sky.
People are beaten and shot by the police.
No one can say anything. Otherwise they are arrested.

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2019

Sheathe the Ara­bi­an Swords

Oh October,
I will tell of Laila, of how she kissed freedom.
Seven heavens attend to my poems.

Oh sun of Damascus,
Does the Tigris still send our wishes towards Baghdad?

Iraq | Amir Shaduli | 2019

Our House

We had a house, we built it ourselves.
The walls of stone, their colours
smelled light and dark, and the windows were
very large. We opened them and looked out.

Syria | Hussein Kasha | 2019

Easy

When I was little,
life was easy.
To get up in the morning
and have a nice day
with the family was simple.

When I grew older,
it was no longer easy.

Syria | Ahmad Al Rifai | 2019

Sound of the Piano

The smoke flees from my lung
like my soul.
The clock no longer ticks,
I have fallen into a dream.

Saudi Arabia | Shahad Albayroudi | 2019

The Vel­vet World of Writing

I was so full of this feeling,
this overpowering impression
of not belonging to this velvet world of writing.
Until the moment when I saw myself and the others in my spirit.

Anonym | 2019

I Remem­ber

I was ten years old. I remember the burning tears of my father. The sadness and fear. That dreadful night. I remember so much that I would like to spew my brain out, so that every memory disappears.

Jordan | Shakush | 2019

Unti­tled Rap

Sin Lam Alef Mim to all believers and unbelievers,
Hey guys, wake up from your eternal sleep!
Stop waging these thousand-year wars!

Iraq | Katja Haji Ido | 2019

Sep­a­ra­tion

First day in Germany
With my mother
And my two little brothers
We were in a park
We were waiting
For my sister and my big brother

They never found us

Iraq | Armand Haji Ido | 2019

Only Togeth­er

On the first day in Germany
I felt I was in the desert
For four days I was in prison
With only sand on the floor

Syria | Jin Hamo | 2019

Part­ing

I feel the fresh air
And breathe it in.
I look at the mountains
And nature
And breathe out.
My hair flies
And tears flow.

Syria | Naseh Qutaisch | 2019

Poet out of Homesickness

I have never in my life
written poems, but in my foreignness
my feeling is that I need it now.
Out of my homesickness I became a poet,

Syria | Ahmad Al Mohamad | 2019

To My Beloved

In the city of dreams
Where people never sleep
One night that no days followed
I met a remarkable woman
Asked her
Who are you?

Syria | Hassan Zir | 2019

Look­ing Back

I stood at a stair,
two or three steps.
A small stair,
next to a small street.

Syria | Hani Schebel | 2019

We Kill Our Dreams

At that time he sat
in the dark, lonely cell of a prison.
The warder used to ask him:
Do you think that our power will end one day?

Syria | Diana Hamido | 2019

For­eign Soil

Yearning follows me like a shadow
a chain of memory that pulls me into the past.
I would like to cry.

When I think of my grandfather…

Syria | Safe Hajjar | 2018

Dis­ap­point­ed Hope

Why are we disappointed,
when we entrust our secrets to those we love most?

Syria | Safe Hajjar | 2018

You

You came to support me.
I was relieved, I felt your kindness when you helped me.
You were by my side when I felt bad
And I still feel bad.

Syria | Adham Al-Jwabra | 2019

Sto­ry of a Dream

Dreams don’t enter your mind of their own accord
Every dream has a story

Iraq | Mohammed Ali Al Mhesen | 2019

Only My Mother

When I come home late,
there is no one who notices my absence,
only my mother.

When I switch off my mobile phone,
no one tries to call me,
only my mother.

Iraq | Mohammed Ali Al Mhesen | 2019

My Hap­pi­ness

I saw a bit of hamburger lying in the kitchen.
I took the first half and bit into it.
Then I felt happy.

Syria | Mahmoud Jamou | 2019

Nature

Look at nature.
Then you understand everything.

Only writers understand it!

Lebanon | Hassan Al Hamad | 2019

Kiss­es in the Pack

Dear mother,
now I must flee!
Let me embrace you in farewell,
kiss me!

Syria | Ghaith Al Kazzaz | 2019

Promise

In my name and the name of everybody,
we thank the German state
and its citizens.

Syria | Barakat Alahmad | 2019

Black-and-White

Some of us are like the sea,
and others like a white sheet of paper.

Syria | Aya Alahmad | 2019

Bridge

Time passes.
Damascus remains like a bridge for me
between my soul and my body.

Lebanon | Alaa Hallak | 2019

Keep­ing Silent

The true core of a person
lies not in what he says,
but in what he does not reveal.

Syria | Batol Almawed | 2019

The Rea­son for Her Silence

A girl flew with the wind like a flying leaf.
Those who saw her thought she was flying because she wanted to.
The smile never left her face.
So that her secret could not become visible.

Syria | Youmna Hamdan | 2019

Yearn­ing

When I arrived in Germany, I had many positive emotions.
First of all I was very pleased to meet my sister.
Soon negative feelings crept in: boredom, loneliness

Iraq | Sarah Oheed | 2019

Rose Heart

Yarin and Gasma are small but beautiful
I feel my village in my soul
My family around me gives me confidence

Syria | Simon Darwish | 2018

Tears of Darkness

I hear music.
And when I hear music, I remember you.
Mother!

Syria | Simon Darwish | 2018

Autumn at Home

Autumn in my homeland is the loveliest time of the whole year
When autumn comes, my heart blooms like a flower

Syria | Simon Darwish | 2018

My Home is My Paradise

My home is my paradise.
My home is the home of beauty.

Syria | Mohamad-Fahed Kalaji | 2019

»The Arab Man«

I have brought the new version
of the Arab man
to Göttingen.

Iraq | Sonja Hussein | 2019

Vio­lins with Flowers

I love flowers
I love grass
Flowers and grass together
I would like violins with flowers

Syria | Roy Liious | 2019

The Lan­guage of Music

Music makes connections and builds bridges.
My family play music, and that encouraged me to learn the violin.
Music is the only language that all people understand.

Palestine | Omar Alsahli | 2019

Float like a Cloud

There is one thing that gives me freedom
and one that can take it away.

Palestine | Bahaa Baqluleh | 2019

Con­tra­dic­tion

What we have, we do not want to share.
What we can share, we do not need.

Syria | Beiwar Marika / Sara Shekhmuus | 2019

Beau­ti­ful home­land, sad homeland

My beautiful homeland
My sad homeland
My homeland, planted with the love of Mem û Zîn*

Syria | Zanav Suliman | 2019

Iden­ti­ty

Some people place them in the pigeonhole of
Religion, ethnic group or nation.
For two years they have constantly asked me
about my nationality,
my ethnic group
and my religion.

Iraq | Zakariyya Al Obydy | 2019

Images of you

Like a grave, the plane takes from you those whom you love.
After your embrace I could no longer walk, like a child with fever.
You and my tears, you kissed my face.
I want to see you again, and again.

Syria | Bahaa Ghazalah Al Shaar | 2019

Tues­day

Yes, right, it was Monday yesterday. And what day is it today?
Today is Monday, too.

Scientists claim that time is the measure of change.
If there is no change, that means that there is no time.
And that also means that yesterday was Monday, and today is Monday and tomorrow will be Monday.

Syria | Amar Alhaw | 2019

The Ques­tion of Origins

Once I was at the river Main with friends.
We were in a good mood, because we were together.
As we sat there, we spontaneously
got to know some Germans.

Syria | Alaa Al Najjar | 2019

Please Don’t Come Closer

A white piece of paper
And a pen in my hand
And time moves on.

Syria | Abdo Ali | 2019

What Am I?

What am I really?
A Kurd? Arab? Turk, Afghan, Pakistani?
What am I then?

Syria | Sameh Dib | 2019

Dear Night

Nature is changing now.
Autumn followed by winter.
The quietness kills itself.

Syria | Mohamad Narbi | 2019

Car­ri­er Pigeon

Now my poems fly to you,
like a carrier pigeon,
that brings the love, yearning and heart’s desires
of the loved one.

Syria | Ahmed Tamo | 2018

First Home

In Amude I was born
I played football there
Every day

But my first home
The first land
In which I lived
Was my mother

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2019

Por­trait in Berlin Nights

The eyes of Berlin know my homeland.
But does the city understand my heart?
Does the city understand that I am still a child?

Syria | Ali Alzaeem | 2018

The Green City

A round before eternity

The green city
With the branches of olive trees
Showed me the way to love and the first house

Syria | Alaa Aldin Khalifeh | 2018

I Am

I am the traveller in the passages of Today
And in the hideaways of Tomorrow.

Syria | Alaa Aldin Khalifeh | 2018

Still Here

We await tomorrow.
What is tomorrow?
And who will we be tomorrow?

I left my dream behind
Sitting by the roadside.

Syria | Uday Raja | 2018

Time

I am a Palestinian from Syria
I was forced to leave my beloved homeland
I am the one who conquered countries, sea and mountains
To secure our future

Syria | Raghdad Alrouz | 2018

A Look Back

A look back, back in time
What was my life like?
What was my childhood like?

Libya | Salah Ali Ngab | 2018

More Dan­ger­ous than the Question

A blonde woman asks me
Why did you come?
A vague question
A red question

Libya | Salah Ali Ngab | 2018

My Moth­er Country

My homeland has no borders
And no gates that owners of coloured passports can pass through
With an entry visa that expires on the date of death

Anonym | 2018

Those Who Enter Are Lost

I decided of my own free will
to go to Germany.

Anonym | 2018

Trag­ic Heroes

I have grown old,
my hair has turned white,
a consequence of the tragic events
of recent years.

Anonym | 2018

Deci­sion

When I start to write,
it feels as if
I am relating the personal experience of someone
who has known only ugly wars
and never in his life felt at rest.

Syria | Munir Hammoud | 2018

Bro­ken

Why am I here?
What am I doing here?
Can I find safety here?

Syria | Safaa Kleb | 2018

Death Route to Europe

We lived in peace,
then war came to us.
It destroyed all that was good in our lives.

Syria | Reem Burhan | 2018

Free from the Past

The way to Wuppertal.
It was unbelievable.
Fifty of us at sea.
The engine breaks down.

Syria | Hussein Kuafathi | 2018

Not the Last Day

Eleven days from Egypt to Italy.
Five stages, across land and water.
I was so tired.
At sea we changed ship.
I was so tired that I fell.

Syria | Hussein Kuafathi | 2018

A Won­der­ful Evening

A lovely sunny day in Egypt.
I was playing football with my friends.
Suddenly, an angry voice.

Syria | Bashar Abdalli | 2018

Mis­un­der­stand­ing

I am often with Germans.
But I think we don’t understand each other well.

Syria | Bashar Abdalli | 2018

Turn back the clock

Everything was planned
Two months in advance, I knew I was going to Germany
Friends of my father had already sent their children ahead of us

Syria | Rojin Namer | 2018

Flight

I travelled for a long time.
For days I walked.
For days I sat on the floor of a train.
For days I sat in prison.
For days I slept in the street.

Syria | Rama Janina | 2018

War

the war has begun
it was fine before
but no one escapes destiny

Anonym | 2018

Return­ing

at the airport a young man
waited for his flight, saw the people around him
and their encounters
after 21 years away he wished
his country were a person

Syria | Robin Osman | 2018

Today I feel free

Today I feel free
I may speak my native language: Kurdish
I am free, there are no boundaries
Now I can learn everything I want