Syrian poet Razan Ayaso: My power lies in my weakness

Her poetry is greatly influenced by that of legendary Syrian poet Nizar Qabbani. She is clearly and strongly inspired by the simple language used by the late Syrian poet; a language that he once said, “was like bread, accessible to any ordinary person.” Both of them adore Damascus and were born in the same ancient neighborhood of Ma’zant al-Shahm. She does not deny the influence of Nizar’s powerful poetry, but indicates that she feels more inspired by Syria’s other literary giant, Omar Abu Risheh. Razan Ayaso is a talented poet living in Great Britain, with an aching heart left behind in Damascus. With three books to her name, the prolific young woman insists on making a difference, but laments not being recognized or supported by her native Syria. She knows where she stands today and understands perfectly well where she is heading, ten years from now.

The mixed inspiration of two enchanting and legendary cities would certainly bring out the passion in people. It would certainly do wonders for a poet. You have lived in both Damascus and London. How have the different lifestyles and cultures of both cities affected your work?
Once you are in a certain place, you might speak that country’s language but your inner feelings will never change. I still feel I belong to Damascus. Traveling helps people think in a correct manner, and sort out their emotions. I cannot compare Damascus with any other city in the world, because each city has its own uniqueness. I can say however that the chance to travel brought out the poet inside me.
Who initially encouraged you to publish your work? You now have three books to your name; what are the different levels of maturity and literature in each of them?
The first book was a collection of poems I made at a time when I was not so serious about poetry. I did not grasp the responsibility it took to release works to an audience, on how others will receive my work. All I cared about was what was inside of me, feelings and emotions that I wanted to put on paper. Development comes with maturity and today my attitude is different towards poetry. I put more effort into my second and third books. The person who encouraged me to publish was my father—the anonymous soldier who appears throughout the entire work. He believed in me and thought I had talent.

What about your husband? What role does he play in your poetry and does he encourage your literary endeavors? Tell us about him, his role in your life, and that of family.
I am a mother of two and I highly appreciate that my husband encourages me and loves my small successes. He does not read my work; he likes to hear me recite my own poetry. What is important is his ability to separate himself from the character I write about. Writing is like a dream; nobody can control it. He is aware of this and that is very clever of him.
Are all of your poems based on personal experience?
Much of it is a result of my own experience but I want to make it clear that I do not write my memoirs of paper. A poem is a mix between imagination and truth. No writer or poet can live all of his/her heroes or characters in their poems.

How has the Arab community in London reacted to your work, and have specialized agencies in Syria, like the Ministry of Culture, been supportive of you as an expatriate Syrian with talent and something to say?
I think that my books made a favorable impression on the Arab community in London. I do feel that they care about me, whereas in Syria, that doesn’t really apply. That is so sad. I feel that it is my right to find someone official who cares about my work right here in my own country. I never got any support, not even from the Ministry of Expatriate Affairs. I repeat, this is so sad.
Can you describe yourself to me, in one brief sentence?
I might seem like a strong character, but deep inside I am not.
What’s your one wish?
To live in Damascus.