نشتاق إليك… “شيخ الصيادي”
كاظم شمس الدين
(إلى نصري شمس الدين في ذكرى رحيله التاسعة والعشرين)
عندما استمع الى صوتك الهادر يأخذني الحزن اليك وكأنك رحلت اليوم وحملت معك كل اطياف الفرح. الحنين الى مقلتيك والشوق الى ضحكتك وجلسات السمر البسيطة حاضرة في حنايا البال تسكن القلب وتحاكي الزمان وتنام قريرة على اغنية لم تفرح، صب الهوى بالكاس واسقيني غرام.. وكأن بينك وبين الغرام متعة.. لازمك وما عرفته اتعبك وما نلته رأيته ولم تسكن اليه..
كل اغاني العشق نامت على اخدود الوهم فهربت من اشيائك وفرحت انك غنيت عالعين تبقي لاقيني. ويا كاسر مزراب العين، وعلى عين الميه يا سمرا، ووحياتك يا درب العين.. وكأن العين اخذتك الى طفولتك حيث كنت تمرح وتزرع وتغني. رنت اليك العيون جميعاً فغفت على حدود الشوق الى اغنيات شاعت ولن تموت، بالرغم من سنين الغياب تلك بقيت متربعاً على عرش الأغنية الشعبية ترندح الأوف والموال والميجانا والدلعونا بعزتك المعهودة وهامة طلتك البهية المنبعثة من أريج الشوق والاحساس والحب.
نشتاق اليك كلما لامس سحر وجهك طيف الذكريات.. الى عبده الرواندي، شيخ المشايخ.. فخرالدين. ريبال. المختار. البويجي شيخ نصري. فهد العابور. الملك. الجد. زيدون المستشار. وك يا جدي يا بو ديب، ويا شيخ نصري صالح. الى آخر لقب احببته ولبسك شيخ الصيادي وانت وراجع ما معك شي… ولقب وحيد احببناه فيك عمي نصري… امتلكت كل الاسماء فلبستها وكنت منها حتى صدقنا انها انت…
جون حزينة منذ وداعك. تستعيد ما غنيته لها… (جون جون بلدي جون بتعطيك الزيت والزيتون) معصرة الزيتون ما زالت تعبق برائحتك بطيفك في كل زاوية فيها وكأنك لم تزل سيدها تأبى ان تنسلخ عنها… كنت تحبها فرحلت معك حيث تنتظرك في دنيا الأبدية.
نحبك. نشتاق اليك. الى وهجك.. الى صوتك الهادر وروحك الطاهرة. ايام لن تعود فيها حياة للفن من بعدك كما كانت معك وكأن فرح الكلمة الشعبية غاب بموتك. نحبك نستمع اليك كل يوم عبر أثير استذوق صوتك.. نحاكيك بكل اغنية صدحت فيها فكانت عنواناً لملحمة ابدية…
في ذكراك التاسعة والعشرين نستعيد بعضاً من اعمالك، شو بعد في غير الرحيل شو بعد في. لقد ضحلت مواسم الزرع وانطفأت الأيام، رحلت مع رفاق دربك عاصي ومنصور وفيلمون الى دنيا الصدق الى قدرك فتمنيت ان تسقط على مسرح عظمتك فكان لك ما اردت.. في هذه الذكرى نقول لك ان جون باقية على عهدك ومحبتك متفاخرة بأنك إبنها البار الذي حمل رسالتها الى كل محافل الدنيا فغناها وتغنى بها.. جون ستبقى وفية لك تحمل رايتك وتنطق باسمك الذي لن يموت…
في يومك هذا لن نلتفت الى ما هو وراءك الى تكريم يليق بك تقوم به وزارة الثقافة او اية جهة رسمية تتنبى الكبار امثالك ولكن يظهر أن الوزارة المعنية مشغولة بعظائم امورها، اما نحن فسنكرمك.. سنكرمك كل صباح مع كل طلة شمس وعبر كل موال ولحن…
بعدني بتذكر أول مرة سمعت فيها أغنية لنصري كنت ب مسرحية الشخص مع رونزا , كانت الأغنية هيي رقصتك بالعيد ,صرت عيد المسرحية بس ت اسمعها و اسمع جبليي النسمي ب صوتو , كان عمري وقتها 4 سنين , بس ما فيي انسى الاحساس لمن كنت اسمعو , ليه ما بعرف , و بتذكر انو في ليله , شفتو ل نصري ب نومي , سلم عليي و حكاني , مش شي جديد , الحديث يلي ب قلها ياه ل ريما ب بنت الحارث و عطاني ليرة و فل , بس بعدني بتذكرها , كان لابس شروال , قميص أزرق , و حاطت الطربوش بعدني متذكرة صوتو و كل شي يا ريت شوفو يا ريت كنت خالقاني قبل 30 سنة ت شوفو و احكي معو بس.
We Found Treasure Island
His voice is older than time. His voice gave birth to the glorious mountains we see. His vocal cords were irrigated with the golden water of talent and pageantry. Embodying the true meaning pf the term ” The One and Only “, Nasri Shamseddine is a wondrous singer that had a heavenly and empyreal voice.
Nasreddine Moustafa Shamseddine, rather known as Nasri ,Shamseddine, was born on June 27, 1927, in the town of Joun in Mount Lebanon, being the sixth child among his nine siblings. Thanks to his mother that bought him a musical instrument, the ” Oud”, Nasri’s talent prospered due to the encouragement he received from her. He acquired his primary education at “Joun’s Elementary School’, and his secondary education at “Al-Maqased” in Saida.
Yet, the boisterous river of his marvelous voice burst to life during the weddings and parties of his village. At the age of 17, he worked as an Arabic teacher at “Shib’a’s” school then at “Al-Ja’fariyah” school, but then quit his job in quest for his passion.
He moved to Beirut, and joined “Nahas Film” company, with which he traveled to Egypt in 1950 to begin an acting career with Ismail Yassin’s crew. He also studied music for 3 years.
However, only 3 years of music weren’t enough to launch Nasri’s potential, so he traveled to Belgium and returned yo Lebanon holding a diploma in both music and singing. Unfortunately, the doors of art weren’t wide open all then, so he shifted to telephone communication business, before luck clasped his hands as he read in a local newspaper that “Al-Sharq Al-Adna” radiostation needs chorus performers. And that’s where he met Al-Rahbani Brothers, Fairuz, Halim Al-Roumi and Abdul Ghani Sha’ban. His 30-year career dashed through short sketches he performed with Fairuz.
His first song, “Bhalfak Ya Tayr Bel Fer’a”, was a work of the witty Philimon Wehbe, to which Nasri sang more than once.
After that, the theater was honored to welcome his steady footsteps to its stage, as Nasri started an acting career with the Rahbani trio through 3 movies of which one was his idea ( The Ringsalesman- Baya’ Al Khawatem ) and in 20 operates which were total masterpieces. These plays started 1957 in Baalbak and ended with “Petra” in 1978.
None the less, his works weren’tlimited with the Rahbani family, as he cooperated with Sabah, Majdala and Walid Ghoulmiye: in addition to many composers amd writers such as Halim Al Roumi, Melhem Barakat, Zaki Nassif and Philimon Wehbe, specially during his solo career in which he released his first album, “Tarboush”. He also traveled to many countries like Brazil and Australia.
In 1956, he got married to Yusr Al Daouk. He has 6 children: a couple of twins ( Almaza and Moustafa; Rima and Lina) and May and Maher.
Unfortunately, the camera of death captured his soul and left us only pictures of him to see, on the night of March 18, 1983, on stage in Damascus, Syria, at the age of only 56. He suffered from a cerebral hemorrhage on stage, and fell to the ground as he was singing.
It was unfair to cultivate a young talent before it spread the scents of its blossoms to the whole world. He breathed the air of beauty, and endowed a pearl in his throat. Maybe, it’s the treasure that John Silver of “Treasure Island” was looking for.
A biography for Nasri Shamseddine written by me. A small tribute from a person that endows Nasri Shamseddine in her heart, and sings along with his immortal melodies with every heartbeat. Nasri Shamseddine, together forever, though not by bodies but by soul. RIP music in his grave because after his death, music is no longer music.
When tenderness merges with power
You immediately come to our mind
Us, with love your voice never fails to shower
We crave your voice to be around our hearts twined
Listening to your voice hour after hour
To the glamour of it we find ourselves confined
Every time I hear you singing
I am imprisoned by the charm of your voice
Yet in my core, I feel hollow from longing
Simultaneously, I cry and I rejoice
In my chest, feelings are thronging
Other than feeling sad for your passing I have no choice
How do you do it, I really want to know
How do you convey love in a voice so manly?
Its smooth miraculous beautiful flow
Cannot be human, rather heavenly
Sentiment as tender as flowers of a weeping willow
Sung mightily and solemnly
Two are the drainers of my rapture
The ecstasy I feel when I hear you sing
In my soul, your death leaves a deep fracture
Their hand around my heart, it, sorrow and nostalgia wring
And even though you are a cornerstone of our culture
Ungratefully your gift ungrateful people fling
I know that you don’t need them
Above them you are, soaring like an eagle up high
You and your smile are a precious gem
When the price is cheap, every one hurries to buy
To the diamond that you are, the light of the tin they are is dim
Next to the cedar you are, they are no more than a bonsai
The absence of your voice and smile leaves a sting
A voice so calm, poised, tender, manly and serene
You will forever be the greatest choragic king
Forever missed, the beautiful Nasri Shamseddine