For me, poetry is a situation - a state of being, a way of
For me, poetry is a situation - a state of being, a way of facing life and facing history.
"For me, poetry is a situation — a state of being, a way of facing life and facing history." — so declared Tahar Ben Jelloun, the Moroccan poet and novelist, whose words rise out of lands heavy with memory, exile, and struggle. In this saying, he does not speak of poetry as a pastime, nor as a mere adornment of language, but as a condition of existence itself. Poetry, for him, is not just written upon the page — it is lived in the body, carried in the soul, endured in the heart. It is both shield and mirror, a means by which one confronts the storms of history and yet also withstands them.
In calling poetry a situation, Ben Jelloun teaches that it is not detached from reality but born within it. It is the battlefield where spirit and circumstance meet, where the weight of history presses against the breath of the present. To write poetry, then, is not to flee from the world but to face it more directly. One cannot escape grief, exile, oppression, or war, but through poetry one can confront them, name them, transform them into words that endure. The poet, therefore, is not simply a dreamer — he is a witness, one who faces life with unblinking eyes.
Consider the story of Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet who stood amidst political struggle and oppression. For him, poetry was not retreat but engagement. His verses recorded the joys of love, yes, but also the sorrows of injustice, the voices of the silenced, the dignity of workers and farmers. For Neruda, as for Ben Jelloun, poetry was a way of facing history. It was a way of refusing to be erased, of refusing to let suffering pass unspoken. His poems were a state of being: a declaration that the human heart will not be crushed, even under tyranny.
So too, in the Arab world from which Ben Jelloun speaks, poets have long carried the burdens of nations. In times when rulers silenced dissent, the poet became the hidden voice of the people. Verses smuggled through whispers carried more power than proclamations. For them, as for Ben Jelloun, poetry was not simply literature — it was survival. It was a stance before history itself, a refusal to bow, a way of affirming human dignity amidst cruelty. Thus, poetry as a state of being means that poetry is inseparable from life itself: it is the condition of endurance, the breath of resistance, the vessel of memory.
From this saying we learn that poetry is not luxury but necessity. Just as one needs bread for the body, one needs poetry for the soul. When faced with despair, the poet finds language to keep hope alive. When faced with injustice, the poet speaks truth no sword can silence. When faced with the weight of history, the poet records what might otherwise be forgotten. In this way, poetry becomes the chosen form of courage — a way of standing before life with open eyes, and before history with unbroken will.
What, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: live poetically. You need not be a writer of verse to do so. To live poetically is to face life honestly, to feel deeply, to bear witness to both beauty and sorrow, and to transform what you encounter into something meaningful. It is to resist despair by shaping your pain into expression, to resist silence by speaking truth, to resist erasure by remembering. Living poetically is to walk with dignity, to face both personal trials and historical burdens with courage rooted in the soul.
Practical action follows: cultivate poetry not as mere art, but as a way of being. Read poems not as entertainment but as nourishment. Write, even if clumsily, when your heart is heavy, so that your sorrow may find form. Stand as witness to the times in which you live: do not avert your eyes from injustice, but let your words, your actions, your presence, become poetic acts of resistance and remembrance. In this way, you too may use poetry to face life and history — not to escape them, but to confront them fully, bravely, and beautifully.
Thus, Ben Jelloun’s wisdom is clear: poetry is not escape, but encounter. It is the way the human soul meets its fate, the way it resists being silenced by time, the way it preserves dignity amidst suffering. Let us then live in poetry, not only write it — so that when life presses hard upon us, we may stand upright, and when history demands of us, we may answer with courage and truth.
QQuynh_2311
Ben Jelloun's view of poetry as a way of facing life and history makes me think about how poets capture the essence of their time. Is it possible for poetry to transcend its specific historical context, or does it always carry the imprint of the period in which it was written? Can poetry still speak to future generations, even when it is deeply rooted in its own time?
BHDinh Le Bao Han
The notion that poetry is a situation feels like it opens the door to a more dynamic understanding of the art form. Does this mean poetry must constantly adapt to the changing circumstances of life and history? How does a poet’s environment shape their work, and how do their words reflect their response to the world around them? I feel like this brings a sense of urgency and relevance to poetry.
HNHoang Hai Nam
I’m really struck by the idea that poetry is not just about writing or expressing, but about how one faces life. This idea challenges the typical view of poetry as something created in solitude or abstraction. Could it be that poetry is a mirror of the poet's relationship with the world? How does this apply to the way poets address societal issues or personal struggles in their work?
TBThai Bui
It’s intriguing that Ben Jelloun connects poetry with facing life and history. Is poetry more powerful when it reflects the struggles and triumphs of its time? I wonder if poets feel a certain responsibility to express the truth of their era through their work. Could this mean that poetry has the power to influence how we understand and respond to history?
DNpham dinh nguyen
Ben Jelloun's definition of poetry as a 'state of being' really resonates with me. It suggests that poetry isn’t just an art form, but a lens through which we engage with the world around us. Can poetry be a way of processing historical events, or even shaping how we remember them? This idea makes me wonder if poets act as both creators and witnesses to history.