Elegy_Poem_Analysis
Elegy_Poem_Analysis
This poem is a meditative elegy, a poetic reflection on loss, memory, nature, and
transformation. The speaker uses rich imagery from the natural world—trees, fruits,
birds, and insects—to convey messages of sorrow, regret, political reflection, and longing
for connection.
1. Nature as a Speaker:
The poem opens with trees that “bear fruit” and offer “speeches” to the reader.
Nature, personified, becomes a witness and a participant in human experiences.
The apple and pomegranate become symbols of apology—for spiritual
obsession ("zest for heaven") and delayed change, respectively.
6. Personal Elegy:
In the end, the poem becomes deeply personal: the speaker mourns the loss of his
mother, who didn’t hear nature’s wisdom or the world’s cries for change. Her
memory is tender—“calling me darling in Arabic,” emphasizing both linguistic
intimacy and the ache of cultural disconnection.
Critical Analysis
Charara uses ecocritical symbolism to position nature as morally sentient. The apple and
pomegranate apologize—they’re not just food, but carriers of memory and regret. The
idea that “every seed is a heart…a minefield” alludes to how beauty and danger coexist,
especially in regions scarred by war or political tension.
The poem subtly critiques global politics—the dynamic of power where larger nations
dictate to smaller ones, echoing colonizer/colonized histories. When Charara lists "tea,
tobacco, salt," he directly invokes colonial trade, suggesting that even calls for
reinvention are built on exploitation.
“The mantra today is the same as yesterday. We must become different.” This repetition
mocks shallow calls for change that lack substance. The poet emphasizes how even
change has become habitual, a product we manufacture like “soap” or “rubber.”
The final stanza transforms the political and natural reflections into a heart-wrenching
personal elegy. The speaker longs for his mother, culture, and language—his roots.
The poem closes with yearning for one brief moment of return, not just to a person, but
to a lost identity and language (“Arabic, which no one has since”).
Themes
Charara’s elegy is not a traditional lament—it weaves nature, politics, and memory into
a symphony of regret and reflection. It is a plea to listen—not just to leaders or the
past, but to trees, animals, and ancestors, who have witnessed our repeated mistakes. At
its core, the poem is an intimate call for genuine transformation, personal and
collective, and a longing for voices—like a mother’s—lost to time, war, and exile.