Wires on the roads
by Dhia abada
They ate the fronds,
dates and twigs,
left only the trunk lit on fire.
They marched slowly under dawn.
They swept whole lands,
and never let the day break.
The aim is oil wells,
not freedom, they said,
entering museums... stealing relics,
Thinking they were gallant.
The Statue of Rasafi was surrounded by tanks,
And Sayab's statues robbed of their verses,
They wired the roads,
and concrete blocks were
here and there and everywhere.
Oh...Iraq will not die... no no
this nation never dies.
Hear my voice and pains, World.
Iraq is still my nation, my family, my quarters.
English translation by Dhia abada; edited by Charles S. Cooper
Copyright © 2010 - Dhia abada
Published: 5/27/10 · Author's Page · Next Poem