Latifa Harbaoui, poem
Moderator 
THE BIOGRAPHY
Latifa Harbaoui is an Algerian poet, writer, journalist, and media personality. She graduated in Philosophy from the University of Bouzaréah and continued her studies at the University of Mohamed Khider in Biskra. She is widely recognized as one of Algeria’s distinguished contemporary literary voices, having published extensively in leading Algerian and Arab newspapers and magazines, where she authored influential literary and cultural columns.
Her published works include the poetry collections A Sun Tailored to My Size, Fragments of Anxiety, and Close to the Front with a Kick, winner of the Dar Motoun Prize for Creativity (2023), while her forthcoming collection, Proof, is currently in press. She also published the literary epistolary collection Letters of the Blond Bat, wrote for children’s theatre, and authored the children’s book My Golden Steps in Smart Reading, published under the supervision of the Algerian Ministry of Culture and Arts in 2025. She is also working on her debut novel, Yet He Sees Me.
Harbaoui has served as Algeria’s representative of the Arab Writers League, President of the House of Poetry – Biskra Branch, and a member of the Cultural Advisory Council of Biskra Province. She founded the children’s artistic troupe Shadou El Djazaïr in 1995 and produced several literary and radio programs.
Her writings have been the subject of extensive academic research at Algerian universities and translated into English, Turkish, Albanian, and other languages. She has received numerous national, Arab, and international distinctions, including the First of November Medal, two honorary doctorates, recognition among the 100 Most Influential Personalities for three consecutive years, and recent honors from the Governor of Biskra Province and Barcelona Magazine, reflecting her outstanding contribution to contemporary Arabic literature.
THE DOVE
The dove is hindered by a treacherous white,
where must she abandon the nest of colour,
where must she remain and arrange her tears
to offer broken wings a chance at survival.
How vast the sky, how innocent
of the exhaustion of those who dare to soar.
She will find a melody; she will lend the nightingale
a voice more beautiful than its own.
Oh, if only he would sing a little softer,
if only he could make the birds dance,
if only joy could fly and land
on the branch of a tree bent since eternity.
If only the sun rose forever,
perhaps the swallow would embrace time and exile grief.
Why does he embrace a cloud preparing to weep?
If only he wrapped himself in the sun, if only for a moment.
If only he laughed as though rehearsing life,
planted wings of nylon,
and pretended on the earth that he was flying.
Still the dove waits for something resembling light,
resembling a fatherless child returned from war holding a balloon that never burst.
NOTHING EQUALS ONE LAUGH
Morning on the edge of nothing
the sun opens far from the wound
the fingers of the tired never reach its warmth
eyes appear more delicate than pain
they pant, they run, they line up
in endless queues of illusion
They think at the end there is a key
something worth all this bending
but they get nothing but a bunch of violets
to decorate their wake and crown their graves
Life is to pause for a moment
to drink cool water slowly
to smile at a meaningless instant
from a worn-out balcony
Nothing in this arrogant universe
no glory, no love that is sold
no tears that become a ritual
equals a single moment-broken, spontaneous-
you laugh
with the one you love.
Latifa Harbaoui – Algeria
