Saturday, January 29, 2005

Baghdad and Death by Egyptian poet Ahmad `Abdul-Mu`ti Hijazi (my translation):
"Before he was slaughtered, he was dead
Crying in Baghdad over dead time
looking for his guard
for a poet at his door,
telling are the boy
and seeing only eyes of flames
filling the inside of the palace
with dead horror
and one dead man,
who was not yet dead, still
asking Baghdad..
When is the revenge, when?
Baghdad is a silent path,
and a dome over a gravesite
a fly in the summer, not shaken
by a current of wind
a river that for years has not
and sad songs,
Sadness is stagnant here,
not rebelling!
And a dead man, and
a skeleton of an old man,
a sword on top of the wall,
a dagger from pure gold,
colorful garbs,
covering ribs of chaffs!
and a woman closing
her door on the evening
crying over her loved ones
on its wood
And veiled faces, that do
not reveal
Baghdad is a wall,
without a gate
Baghdad is under the surface
a tunnel
Dawn in it, is as black
as the ink on paper
and sun in it, and the
roundness of the horizon
and a candle around which
black shadows danced
and seven men
their foreheads are
streams of sweat
and their faces are dark
and do not reveal
their eyes do not rest
slipping in the tunnel,
rising up...while Baghdad wailing
walking over old wooden
"Long live the Arabs."!
Baghdad is a night without a star
Baghdad is a flaming and
glowering dawn
Oh, people of Baghdad come out..
Do not leave him!
Baghdad is a land that had been
tilled in its paths,
and one million legs sprouted
crowded, with sleep in their eyes,
and the smell of alleys in their
woe to `Abdul-Ilah,
from the revolt of the dead,
and from the revenge of life!
the poor dead man is throwing
death in the face of the soldiers
searching for the gate of salvation
Do not abandon him!
Do not abandon him! "