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Iraqi Aching

Iraqi Aching Arabic Poem By: Saddam Fahd. Al-Asadi* Translated into English By Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk) =========================== For Iraq I slaughtered the silence in my pen For Iraq I fended fear off my words And for Iraq, I would smother the sun In the vastness of a sieve, And gather the vast sea In a glass of debris! For Iraq I burned embers in my lips. And twisted light in a string of nothingness; For Iraq I forced patience to be my escort, As I went, footless, through the wilderness. They smashed my head with an anvil Oh joy! Thanks! With my blood They scented their anvil And raged the pen planted in my pulse So it writes, whenever it writes, Curse lines for words. Clouds climbed my drought with no rain, And rocks crushed cups of grief in my throat; I endured your agony, Ah, how many Ayoubs ** are there in my flesh? I’ve bled over and over again And tears were lost in my pain; I ground salt and, like dribble, I swallowed it, My grinders shattered, yet my swelling didn’t break; I crossed over fire, stepping on its embers, And cried (eshshaah!) *** with the sting of ill death. Woe to the loss of a homeland tied in my lung; I reject it a land relishing in grudges; I know Yazeed **** is cursed Since the clouds of The Lord rained, And the rooster crowed in my blood, Till I forgot the “No” way I know And turned to my understanding why they fettered my “Yes.” Alas, I say, to the executioner we kneel! By God! So hideous is the glorification of an idol! Idols of Mecca, now I don’t deem Soldiers of Abraha trampled on my values. Woe to my loss! Terror walked on my roads .And shattered the hope planted in my dream Stand for Iraq and say to the war, Woe upon my home land, Son of Iraq, and take the sun In procession into vim and vigor; Let your eagle be haughty on its height, To harm him at the heights is not right. How come, today, The lions starve in weariness, As dogs lavish in boons? Stand and be the field For Hussein in his rising; And draw your blood On the flag and your palm; Oh, my beloved homeland! Bless them my verses, They’ve come, between life and death, To sing you my tune; Oh God! How I fear for my homeland, I even fear for her name To be uttered on my lips. ___________ Translated by: Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk) USA February, 2010 Saddam Fahd. Al-Asadi* is a poet from Iraq The original text was written in classical Arabic poetry

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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Date: 9/24/2013 11:14:00 PM
Thank you very much Arthur I will be publishin more of my translations for poets from Iraq Though I heve my own poetry in Arabic and English I give these translated poems higher priority. With all the devistation their souls have suffered, they still sing like Nightingales, in pain in joy and in passion. More will be coming.
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Date: 9/24/2013 9:15:00 PM
I enjoyed this poem, thank you very much. If you wish email me, I am reading some poems of the Golden Age and maybe you could guide me with some advise!!!
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