Taghrid Bou Merhi, a Lebanese multilingual poet, writer, journalist and translator living in Brasil.


She has authored 18 books and three encyclopedias, a translator of 23 books to date, an author of 56 articles, a presenter of 16 books (five Arabic books and 11 internacional books), and she participated in more than 60 Arabic books and more than 75 anthology internacional. She is an active member of various literary and creative platforms and editor in eight Arab magazines and responsible for the translation department. She is an advisory member among ten internacional poetry consultants chosen by Chinese media giant CCTV. She is advisor to the International Union of Arab Intellectuals, in the Media Authority for Translation Affairs and advisor to the countries Al-Sham literary platform for literary translation. She is internacional embassador for the organization of creativity for peace London. She teaches Arabic to non-speakers, holds a degree in law and political science.

She has received numerous international awards, including the Nizar Sartawi International Creativity Award in 2021, Naji Numan Award in literature in 2023, and the SahityaPata Kazi Nazrul Islam Memorial Award in 2022. Taghrid has been honored for her journalistic excellence and has won primer place prize such as the “Zheng Nian Cup” 2023. International Peace Medal Award, Peace Award, certificate for Hyperpoem Book (a poetry book publishing 2000 poets).
Taghrid has been honored with the International Poet Zhen Xin Award for 2022 and 2023. She received the Journalistic Excellence Shield from the Nile and Euphrates Paper Magazine in 2022 and 2023. Taghrid has also been recognized with honorary certificates as a journalist from Mubadara Magazine, Mirror of International Life Agency, Innovators Magazine, Al-Nil Wal-Furat Magazine, MBC Al-Iraq And Al-Mubdeoun magazine.. Her writings are part of several national and international magazines, newspapers, journals and anthologies. Her poems have been translated into 47 languages. . She speaks five languages.
I am here…
And no echo breaks the vast gates
And your voice…!
A prophetic coincidence
Trips over the wilderness of my soul beyond the lung of dreams.
And because the holes of time are drowsy
I stole a glance at the face of a cloud
From the proximity of a wound and a blind memory.
So salt seeped from a tear of insomnia
And cries rose from the clay of suspicion.
I thought I was incapable of embodying my foolish arguments
As I made a narrow place for them with fake names.
And here, on ruins upon ruins
The transparency of the soul groans
In the custody of the train..!
And here… your voice
Rubbing against mine in the furrows of longing
Moistening the thirst of longing
Between anticipation and the shirt of patience…!
Yes, it is a desperate attempt to calm down, for awareness is a chronic disease with no cure.
That’s why life feels so narrow.
It is ethics and a sense of responsibility.
Like the wind whispering in the ear of the sea, bringing tranquility.
And if we look into the faces of children, we will find more honesty than what smiles suggest.
Between pretense and simplicity lies a journey of birth and death, a scream in the first and a sigh in the latter!
When homelands are stolen, we remain silent, like illusions we create in a moment of lies, and control is shared by thieves.
Thirsty details rush towards mirages.
Death is cheap and hunger is graves. Noah’s flood is coming.
So how can I tell you, my dear,
about the tyranny of drought and the mirage of dreams, forming a complex mixture with pleasure?
It is enough to listen to your silence… Frozen eyes stare into the depths of your mind while dying. You can see…
Even though you are blind, you can see the stereotypical image of fools in your mind.
Close your eyes again and step out of yourself. Embrace your sinful isolation
and remain silent…
Try to forget your name…
Do not be oppositional at the peak of tragedy…
And in a small moment of frustrated desires, let your intuition be just a means to calm down…
In moments of hunger and shattered dreams…
or rather you will say to me then: “They are all alike in the sea of misery.”
The biology of myths is alluring
Weaved around it is Halley’s comet
Roaming in the darkness of the wild night.
As you move in the orbit of your illusions
The pillars of your tower lean crazily
Like a Viking ship, delayed by a thousand light years!
What raised the images of your illusions
To settle as white blood cells?
What nourished the sweat on your bottom
Until it settled in the pores of your skin and the depths of your ancient water?
You lack nudity
And delusion is a planet that revolves in a chemistry of pure imagination!
Before delusion crushes you
Divorce the obvious from your superficial shell
And witness its death.
In fact, past generations will argue with you
And raise common questions within you.
The debate will continue until the white thread is distinguished from the black thread!
Perhaps you will realize it!
Perhaps you were not aware of the gaps that you created by mere willpower!
And perhaps, you were not.

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