The Kur­dish Poet Ah­mad Hardi

The Kurdish Globe - - NEWS - H.G. Has­san

Ah­mad Hardi (1922-2006) was born in the city of, just like many other great Kur­dish po­ets, Sule­mani. He came from a long line of acad­mics in his fam­ily and even Hardi's own chil­dren are prom­i­nent writ­ers and jour­nal­ists within the Kur­dish com­mu­nity.

In the first three stan­zas of one of his more fa­mous po­ems, "Lonely Se­crets" (trans­lated by Dr Reb­war Fatah), Hardi writes, "A life of harsh sor­rows has killed the but­ter­fly of my de­sire; Spilling the wine in the love­g­lass of my youth; The mist of the bleak days has be­come so dark; The love scenes of my heart were cloaked in de­spair; Lonely nights have smoth­ered the flame of my hope-can­dle; The hope­less-hands have stran­gled the eu­pho­ria of my in­ner­most melodies."

Some po­ets choose to in­ter­pret "Lonely Se­crets" as Hardi's way of warn­ing peo­ple that keep­ing se­crets can suck the life out of you and drive away the peo­ple you used to keep close and how that lone­li­ness can drive you to de­spair. Much like this one, Hardi en­joys writ­ing about se­crets in par­tic­u­lar ("When the se­cret of lips and the se­cret of eyes unite")for ex­am­ple, lead­ing us to won­der about Hardi's own se­crets and what he was keep­ing to him­self be­hind the scenes. Truly an in­spi­ra­tion to Kur­dish po­ets around the world, Hardi man­ages to strike a cer­tain in­ter­est in po­etry-lovers.

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