Published in Overland Issue 236 Spring 2019 · Uncategorized The Nasīb of Lujayn Hourani Hasib Hourani The first half, the motherland: Tarshīha, District of Akkā Shiḥa Jamaluddin flew*. (ṭar shiḥa.) The legendary hero flew to the battlefield fought the crusaders and had a city named after him. town territory land By 1948 she is deserted, looted, not allotted to us. Al sha‘b flew*. (ṭar al sha‘b.) The masses flew in flocks to safer land and she is made naked. One decade later, she is dressed in new vesture brought in from the east, west, and north. They build her from the ground up, from the rubble and branches up (already 600 metres above sea level, they go even higher.) Like a woman in marriage she keeps her old name and adopts the new one, too – hyphenating them like it means modernity. *the imperfect conjugation of Arabic teer, to fly, is tar. The second half, the fatherland: Ḥiṭṭīn, District of Ṣafad The father didn’t make it out alive. In the twelve-hundreds he homed the battle of the horns in the sixteen-hundreds the ottomans in 1948 the war and that finally did it. Think bountiful, and flourishing, and refreshing; think olive trees, and fruit trees; think figs in the summer and spring water flowing into wadis (think about how these aren’t my thoughts and haven’t been anyone’s for a while now.) – Evacuate the inhabitants – Occupy the town – Chase away the rāji‘ūn* – Extinguish the men – pack animals – reason to come back Found new towns with new names and like rock salt in the mortar wound call old mosques heritage sights. *literally translated as the returners. Read the rest of Overland 236 If you liked this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four brilliant issues for a year Hasib Hourani Hasib Hourani is a Palestinian writer, editor, and arts worker who lives and works in Naarm/Melbourne. More by Hasib Hourani › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 6 November 2026 · Friday Fiction Headland Harry Goddard He must have still been sore. I could tell from the winces he made as he scooted down the trail. Some unspoken agreement of not hitting other people’s children — and the circumstances of me not being that type of kid — spared me from the same punishment. I was taken to my parents who agreed I would have to work off the damages, and I must have mowed the lawn once, or cleaned the family car. 4 November 2026 · Film MIFF, Minotaur and the politics of maternal reception Alicia Byrnes Maternal labour is, in the terms I’ve set out here, not labour at all. Noisy, unfocused, mobile, perhaps even sleepy — it is an affront to arthouse film viewing and therefore unserious.