Mohammad Ahmad
11-25-2013, 04:14 AM
A Job's patience
Translated to English by:
MMA
Short background:
Abed al-Razaq Abed – al-Wahed is an Iraqi poet, lives now abroad, he is the very educated liberal poet.
He loves Iraq too much and mostly his poems have the enthusiasm impressions.
After the last occupation of 2003, he left Iraq and preferred to live abroad. A poem he said resembling Iraq and Iraqis as a very patient camel, the feature that it is well known about a camel.
Of course, Iraqis would be more patient against terrorism and terrorists who they come always across our opened borders after the occupation of 2003.
All the explosives and the bombed-cars, which hit the civilians, are made by them.
Usually those terrorists and those explosives material inter our country by the neighbors.
قالوا وظل.. ولم تشعر به الإبل
يمشي، وحاديه يحدو.. وهو يحتمل..
ومخرز الموت في جنبيه ينشتل
حتى أناخ بباب الدار إذ وصلوا
وعندما أبصروا فيض الدما جفلوا
صبر العراق صبور أنت يا جمل!
وصبر كل العراقيين يا جمل
صبر العراق وفي جنبيه مخرزه
يغوص حتى شغاف القلب ينسمل
ما هدموا.. ما استفزوا من محار مه
ما أجرموا.. ما أبادوا فيه.. ما قتلوا
وطوقهم حوله.. يمشي مكابرة
ومخرز الطوق في أحشائه يغل
وصوت حاديه يحدوه على مضض
وجرحه هو أيضا ناز ف خضل
يا صبر أيوب.. حتى صبره يصل
إلى حدود، وهذا الصبر لا يصل!
يا صبر أيوب، لا ثوب فنخلعه
إن ضاق عنا.. ولا دار فننتقل
لكنه وطن، أدنى مكارمه
يا صبر أيوب، أنا فيه نكتمل
وأنه غرة الأوطان أجمعها
فأين عن غرة الأوطان نرتحل؟!
أم أنهم أزمعوا ألا يظللنا
في أرضنا نحن لا سفح، ولا جبل
إلا بيارق أمريكا وجحفلها
وهل لحر على أمثالها قبل؟
وا ضيعة الأرض إن ظلت شوامخها
تهوي، ويعلو عليها الدون والسفل!
كانوا ثلاثين جيشا، حولهم مدد
من معظم الأرض، حتى الجار والأهل
جميعهم حول أرض حجم أصغرهم
إلا مروءتها.. تندى لها المقل!
وكان ما كان يا أيوب.. ما فعلت
مسعورة في ديار الناس ما فعلوا
ما خربت يد أقسى المجرمين يدا
ما خربت واستباحت هذه الدول
هذي التي المثل العليا على فمها
وعند كل امتحان تبصق المثل!
يا صبر أيوب، ماذا أنت فاعله
إن كان خصمك لا خوف، ولا خجل؟
ولا حياء، ولا ماء، ولا سمة
في وجهه.. وهو لا يقضي، ولا يكل
أبعد هذا الذي قد خلفوه لنا
هذا الفناء.. وهذا الشاخص الجلل
هذا الخراب.. وهذا الضيق.. لقمتنا
صارت زعافا، وحتى ماؤنا وشل
هل بعده غير أن نبري أظافرنا
بري السكاكين إن ضاقت بنا الحيل؟!
يا صبر أيوب.. إنا معشر صبر
نغضي إلى حد ثوب الصبر ينبزل
لكننا حين يستعدى على دمنا
وحين تقطع عن أطفالنا السبل
نضج، لا حي إلا الله يعلم ما
قد يفعل الغيض فينا حين يشتعل!
يا سيدي.. يا عراق الأرض.. يا وطنا
تبقى بمرآه عين الله تكتحل
لم تشرق الشمس إلا من مشارقه
ولم تغب عنه إلا وهي تبتهل
يا أجمل الأرض .. يا من في شواطئه
تغفو وتستيقظ الآباد والأزل
يا حافظا لمسار الأرض دورته
وآمرا كفة الميزان تعتدل
مذ كورت شعشعت فيها مسلته
ودار دولابه، والأحرف الرسل
حملن للكون مسرى أبجديته
وعنه كل الذين استكبروا نقلوا!
يا سيدي.. أنت من يلوون شعفته
ويخسأون، فلا والله، لن يصلوا
يضاعفون أسانا قدر ما قدروا
وصبرنا، والأسى، كل له أجل
والعالم اليوم، هذا فوق خيبته
غاف، وهذا إلى أطماعه عجل
لكنهم، ما تمادوا في دنائتهم
وما لهم جوقة الأقزام تمتثل
لن يجرحوا منك يا بغداد أنملة
ما دام ثديك رضاعوه ما نذلوا!
بغداد.. أهلك رغم الجرح ، صبرهمو
صبر الكريم، وإن جاعوا، وإن ثكلوا
قد يأكلون لفرط الجوع أنفسهم
لكنهم من قدور الغير ما أكلوا!
شكرا لكل الذين استبدلوا دمنا
بلقمة الخبز.. شكرا للذي بذلوا
شكرا لإحسانهم.. شكرا لنخوتهم
شكرا لما تعبوا.. شكرا لما انشغلوا
شكرا لهم أنهم بالزاد ما بخلوا
لو كان للزاد أكالون يا جمل!
لكن أهلي العراقيين مغلقة
أفواههم بدماهم فرط ما خذلوا
دما يمجون إما استنطقوا، ودما
إذ يسكتون، بجوف الروح، ينهمل!
يا سيدي.. أين انت الآن؟ خذ بيدي
إني إلى صبرك الجبار أبتهل
يا أيهذا العراقي الخصيب دما
وما يزال يلالي ملأه الأمل
قل لي، ومعذرة ، من أي مبهمة
أعصابك الصم قدت أيها الرجل؟!
ما زلت تؤمن أن الأرض دائرة
وأن فيها كراما بعد ما رحلوا
لقد نظرت إلى الدنيا، وكان دمي
يجري.. وبغداد ملء العين تشتعل
ما كان إلا دمي يجري.. وأكبر ما
سمعته صيحة باسمي.. وما وصلوا!
وأنت يا سيدي ما زلت تومئ لي
أن الطريق بهذا الجب يتصل
إذن فباسمك أنت الآن أسألهم
إلى متى هذه الأرحام تقتتل؟
إلى متى تترع الأثداء في وطني
قيحا من الأهل للأطفال ينتقل؟
إلى متى يا بني عمي؟.. وثابتة
هذي الديار.. وما عن أهلها بدل؟
بلى... لقد وجد الأعراب منتسبا
وملة ملة في دينها دخلوا!
وقايضوا أصلهم.. واستبدلوا دمهم
وسوي الأمر.. لا عتب، ولا زعل!
الحمد لله.. نحن الآن في شغل
وعندهم وبني أخوالهم شغل!
أنا لنسأل هل كانت مصادفة
أن أشرعت بين بيتي أهلنا الأسل؟
أم أن بيتا تناهى في خيانته
لحد أن صار حتى الخوف يفتعل؟
وها هو الآن يستعدي شريكته
بألف عذر بلمح العين ترتجل!
أما هنا يا بني عمي، فقد تعبت
مما تحن إلى أعشاشها الحجل!
لقد غدا كل صوت في منازلنا
يبكي إذا لم يجد أهلا لهم يصل!
يا أيها العالم المسعور.. ألف دم
وألف طفل لنا في اليوم ينجدل
وأنت تحكم طوق الموت مبتهجا
من حول أعناقهم.. والموت منذهل!
أليس فيك أب؟.. أم يصيح بها
رضيعها؟؟ طفلة تبكي؟ أخ وجل؟
يصيح رعبا، فينزو من توجعه
هذا الضمير الذي أزرى به الشلل؟
يا أيها العالم المسعور.. نحن هنا
بجرحنا، وعلى اسم الله نحتفل
لكي نعيد لهذي الأرض بهجتها
وأمنها بعدما ألوى به هبل!
وأنت يا مرفأ الأوجاع أجمعها
ومعقل الصبر حين الصبر يعتقل
لأنك القلب مما نحن، والمقل
لأن بغيرك لا زهو، ولا أمل
لأنهم ما رأوا إلاك مسبعة
على الطريق إلينا حيثما دخلوا!
لأنك الفارع العملاق يا رجل
لأن أصدق قول فيك: يا رجل!
يقودني ألف حب.. لا مناسبة
ولا احتفال.. فهذي كلها علل!
لكي أناجيك يا أعلى شوامخها
ولن أردد ما قالوا، وما سألوا
لكن سأستغفر التاريخ إن جرحت
أوجاعنا فيه جرحا ليس يندمل
وسوف أطوي لمن يأتون صفحته
هذي، لينشرها مستنفر بطل
إذا تلاها تلاها غير ناقصة
حرفا... وإذ ذاك يبدو وجهك الجذل!
يا سيدي؟؟ يا عراق الأرض.. يا وطني
وكلما قلتها تغرورق المقل!
حتى أغص بصوتي، ثم تطلقه
هذي الأبوة في عينيك والنبل!
يا منجم العمر.. يا بدئي وخاتمتي
وخير ما في أني فيك أكتهل!
أقول: ها شيب رأسي.. هل تكرمني
فأنتهي وهو في شطيك منسدل؟!
ويغتدي كل شعري فيك أجنحة
مرفرفات على الأنهار تغتسل!
وتغتدي أحرفي فوق النخيل لها
صوت الحمائم إن دمع ، وإن غزل
وحين أغفو... وهذي الأرض تغمرني
بطينها... وعظامي كلها بلل
ستورق الأرض من فوقي، وأسمعها
لها غناء على أشجارها ثمل
يصيح بي: أيها الغافي هنا أبدا
إن العراق معافى أيها الجمل!
They said that he was left lonely behind camels' caravan
And camels stepped forward nonchalant to him
His cameleer was egging on, still he was tolerant
And the awl of death in his waists is implanted
After the caravan has been arrived,
close to the house door,
he kneeled down his camel
Seeing him was bleeding from feet to head,
they became startled
What a patient country, Iraq you are!
You are patient as a camel!
All Iraqis all so like camel!
In its both sides, there is piercing awl!
Still going on until it reaches its heart's membrane
However, from its sanctity they destroyed
However, from its purity they provoked
However, they do their crimes overtly in its ground
However, they killed many people there…
And their bond collar around it encircling haughtily
And the awl of this bond in its bowels pierces deeply
And his cameleer sends his voice reluctantly
And his wound still bleeds severely.
O, what Job's Patience is!
After a while, it can be calmed!
Anyhow, this serious patience cannot be ended
O, the Job's Patience—
It is not a dress to be taken off easily,
Once it is unfitting to our body.
Not it is a house to leave it whenever we want
But it is a country, how can we leave it?
O, the Job's patience you may not be limited!
Living in it helps us to be completed…
It is the blazing area of all countries
Whereto out of this honourable place can we leave?
Perhaps they would say it couldn't shadow us…
In our ground, there isn’t sloping or mountain
They only shade remains:
It is the America's flags and its legions…
Is it to unbound man being acceptable?
In spite of thy lofty landmarks come down,
You stay the flower of the ground…
And those of lower status and vile men mount up
They were about thirty armies with many reserve forces
They came crowded along with relatives and neighbours.
All of them gathered in a country—
A country is smaller than each one of invaders' ground…
But it has unexampled such cordial chivalry…
Eyes so that…would be tearing…
As your patience Job, what it had done…
It turns as if mad once they made their offense
No such devastation it has seen previous,
The only offense of those savage hands criminals
No such devastation its sanctity has violated before
Unless those superpowers who come after…
Those who pronounced the ideals always in their lips
In each examine time; the ideals will be spitted out….
O, the patience of Job: what should you do?
If your foe is fearless and shameless, what shall do?
No shame, no shyness, no honour there is in his face…
Never thy foe into violation should be seen tired.
Never has been seen for others right respected.
What will you decide after all these devastations to us?
What do you say after all violations to us?
What would you say after all the ruins they left behind?
What would you say after thy gloomy days?
What would you say about this distress?
Our bread turns bitterer…
Our water turns shallower…
No solution remains but only to sharpen our nails
To be like knives, our nails must be sharpened…
O, the Job's patience we are tolerant nation…
We disregard until the patience dress becomes torn…
But when someone violates our blood,
And when our children life is threatened—
We shall be in deep furry and wrathful no longer…
Then only God will know the limit of our anger.
O, my Master Iraq – my country
I wish you remained in God's eyes guarded
Sun would not shine but only from its east side
And it would not go down unless it beseeched
O, the beautiful place in earth you are forever…
Still in its shores all eternal things—
Shall be slept and awakened…
O, the keeper of all earth its circle
The one, which to Balance, set order…
Since earth was encircled, its large needle turns diluted
And its Ferris wheel began in its cycle…
And the first letter revelation came down…
All of them conveyed to the world its aliphatic message
And all whom felt arrogant transferred from its message…
I ask you by God!
Are you small so that can be easily knocked down?
Dis! They should be chased away!
By God, they could not achieve their purpose …
Let them multiply our sorrow, as they want…
Our patience and our sorrow, no doubt will end
The world of today in spite of its frustration—
Still it is in its napping
And this one on its greed goes ahead hurrying…
Although in their ignobility they don’t have slacked—
And once more, the troop of dwarfs to them listened
They cannot slash from thee Baghdad even a fingertip!
So long as yours people didn’t fallen in dishonour
Baghdad, your people despite of wounds—
Their patience is as the patience of "generous Man"
And even if they strived hunger and lost their children—
And due to starvation perhaps they eat from their flesh,
But from others' cooking pots never had they eaten…
Thanks to those who bargained our blood in a loaf of bread.
Thanks to those who helped us in honesty…
We would appreciate our gratitude to their cordial help …
Thanks is to everyone got fatigued
Thanks to the food, they pushed to us immediately…
We are in debt to those who never behold their hands
O, camel,
If only to the bread, there were eaters!
But my nation the Iraqis—
Against food, they have bloody shut mouthed…
In how much they have had frustrated….
They spit blood out of their mouths in speaking—
But when they were in silence,
They swallowed the blood inside their bowels
O, my Master, where are you now?
Take my hand I am in thy patience worry!
And should I shout strangely!
Is it oddly the fertile Iraq converted to blood?
But the glimpse of hope still Iraq waits…
I want you forgive me to ask thee you "Man"!
From what uncertain nerve had you rocky nerves?
Do you still believe that earth still reserves its honour?
Do you still believe that the honourable men stay un-departed?
I have looked to the world and my blood running in my veins…
Yet Baghdad in my eyes' pupil is going in fire…
The most of things I have heard:
It is the echoing of my name…
And never had they got arrival!
And you my Master still waves to me…
That's the way leads to this deep hollow…
Therefore, by thy name I shall ask them from now…
Until when are these relatives still fighting one another?
Until when can bosoms reserve pus instead of pure milk?
Then it would be transfer from child to child…
Until when do my cousins we stay in wait?
And this homeland never can be displaced
Never their habitants can be displaced…
Yes! Arabs find another native land to themselves…
And faction after faction to the new opinion they entered…
They bargain with their origin… and
Lastly, they have changed their bloods….
Then the matter is settled without blaming or anger…
Praise is to God, now we are engaged in work…
And them with their cousins are busy in work
We would have mere question to ask…
Is it mere an accidental event?
Did javelins go setting off directly between relatives? Or
Is it someone between us is consumed in his betrayal?
Still in betrayal, therefore the horror overcomes him!
Now he turns asking the help of his wife…
In the twinkling of one eye—
Thousand of excuses are ready in her part…
Now my cousins I turn exhausted…
Therefore, I am as if partridges yearning to its nests…
Every sound in our homes turns to be uttering of cry—
When he didn’t find relatives, he was drown in cry
O, the crazy fierce world what is about thee?
Thousand bloods in each day are entwined…
Thousand children per a day are twined…
And you put in the collar of death in delight…
Around their necks and the death itself is wondering…
Are you fatherless?
Or her partner infant shouts to her?
A small child cries saying!
My brother is frightened….
He shouts awfully then he withdraws due to his pain…
Is it the concise is going to be paralyzed?
O, the mad fierce world, yet we are here…
In spite of our wound we celebrate
So that, we can return to this ground, its shiny face….
So that, we can return to it, its safety after it was violated
You the harbour of pains: gather its ordeals
As long as patience can be considered, you may strive…
Because you complain as our hearts, you may look…
Because you are the eyes—
Without thee, we haven’t hope and no pride
They entered thy borders—
Because no lion they met in their way.
Because you were left alone, they entered…
Really, the best word I can say to you "Man"…
It is because of you are the empty and giant one yet!
How do you want me to believe thee you "Man?"
In order to I believe thee—
Thousand loves leads me not one occasion…
Not celebration arouses me because it is just reasons…
Let me tell you privately, and let me say:
"You are the lofty place is in all its towers"
And I shan't repeat what they had said and asked…
But I shall ask the history if it could be forgiver…
When our pain is converted to an uncured wound!
And I shall fold around its page if they bring again
Not to be mere an omitted matter…
However, to be spread matter by a brave one…
Perhaps when he recites it, never will he forget word…
Hence, your glad visage will shine again…
O, my Master, The Iraq of all ground,
Indeed! My country you are….
And in each time I have mentioned…
My eyes would be drowning in tears….
Still I repeat until I am choked in my voice…
Then I turn free of my sorrow…
Once I see honour and paternity in thy eyes…
The treasure of my life you are….
The beginning and the ending to me you are…
The best thing I had is that:
I am in your age becomes old more…
And I would say:
Do you my gray hair can honour me?
It turns gray hair since the day I was nearby thy Rivers…
If only all my hairs converted to wings…
Perhaps I flew there…
Then I could flap nearby your Rivers…
Perhaps I could wash my hairs….
I wish my letters over the palm tress would settle.
Perhaps it had the coo sound…
As pigeons cooing, when they chanted sadly or gladly
I wish that when I slept forever—
And I was covered under its ground…
Perhaps under its mud my bones could be buried
Then the ground over my corpse shall be flourished
Then I might hear its murmuring over its trees…
It seems to me as if drunken sound calling me:
O, the sleeper, Iraq gets recovery
O, camel, Iraq had recovery….
Translated to English by:
MMA
Short background:
Abed al-Razaq Abed – al-Wahed is an Iraqi poet, lives now abroad, he is the very educated liberal poet.
He loves Iraq too much and mostly his poems have the enthusiasm impressions.
After the last occupation of 2003, he left Iraq and preferred to live abroad. A poem he said resembling Iraq and Iraqis as a very patient camel, the feature that it is well known about a camel.
Of course, Iraqis would be more patient against terrorism and terrorists who they come always across our opened borders after the occupation of 2003.
All the explosives and the bombed-cars, which hit the civilians, are made by them.
Usually those terrorists and those explosives material inter our country by the neighbors.
قالوا وظل.. ولم تشعر به الإبل
يمشي، وحاديه يحدو.. وهو يحتمل..
ومخرز الموت في جنبيه ينشتل
حتى أناخ بباب الدار إذ وصلوا
وعندما أبصروا فيض الدما جفلوا
صبر العراق صبور أنت يا جمل!
وصبر كل العراقيين يا جمل
صبر العراق وفي جنبيه مخرزه
يغوص حتى شغاف القلب ينسمل
ما هدموا.. ما استفزوا من محار مه
ما أجرموا.. ما أبادوا فيه.. ما قتلوا
وطوقهم حوله.. يمشي مكابرة
ومخرز الطوق في أحشائه يغل
وصوت حاديه يحدوه على مضض
وجرحه هو أيضا ناز ف خضل
يا صبر أيوب.. حتى صبره يصل
إلى حدود، وهذا الصبر لا يصل!
يا صبر أيوب، لا ثوب فنخلعه
إن ضاق عنا.. ولا دار فننتقل
لكنه وطن، أدنى مكارمه
يا صبر أيوب، أنا فيه نكتمل
وأنه غرة الأوطان أجمعها
فأين عن غرة الأوطان نرتحل؟!
أم أنهم أزمعوا ألا يظللنا
في أرضنا نحن لا سفح، ولا جبل
إلا بيارق أمريكا وجحفلها
وهل لحر على أمثالها قبل؟
وا ضيعة الأرض إن ظلت شوامخها
تهوي، ويعلو عليها الدون والسفل!
كانوا ثلاثين جيشا، حولهم مدد
من معظم الأرض، حتى الجار والأهل
جميعهم حول أرض حجم أصغرهم
إلا مروءتها.. تندى لها المقل!
وكان ما كان يا أيوب.. ما فعلت
مسعورة في ديار الناس ما فعلوا
ما خربت يد أقسى المجرمين يدا
ما خربت واستباحت هذه الدول
هذي التي المثل العليا على فمها
وعند كل امتحان تبصق المثل!
يا صبر أيوب، ماذا أنت فاعله
إن كان خصمك لا خوف، ولا خجل؟
ولا حياء، ولا ماء، ولا سمة
في وجهه.. وهو لا يقضي، ولا يكل
أبعد هذا الذي قد خلفوه لنا
هذا الفناء.. وهذا الشاخص الجلل
هذا الخراب.. وهذا الضيق.. لقمتنا
صارت زعافا، وحتى ماؤنا وشل
هل بعده غير أن نبري أظافرنا
بري السكاكين إن ضاقت بنا الحيل؟!
يا صبر أيوب.. إنا معشر صبر
نغضي إلى حد ثوب الصبر ينبزل
لكننا حين يستعدى على دمنا
وحين تقطع عن أطفالنا السبل
نضج، لا حي إلا الله يعلم ما
قد يفعل الغيض فينا حين يشتعل!
يا سيدي.. يا عراق الأرض.. يا وطنا
تبقى بمرآه عين الله تكتحل
لم تشرق الشمس إلا من مشارقه
ولم تغب عنه إلا وهي تبتهل
يا أجمل الأرض .. يا من في شواطئه
تغفو وتستيقظ الآباد والأزل
يا حافظا لمسار الأرض دورته
وآمرا كفة الميزان تعتدل
مذ كورت شعشعت فيها مسلته
ودار دولابه، والأحرف الرسل
حملن للكون مسرى أبجديته
وعنه كل الذين استكبروا نقلوا!
يا سيدي.. أنت من يلوون شعفته
ويخسأون، فلا والله، لن يصلوا
يضاعفون أسانا قدر ما قدروا
وصبرنا، والأسى، كل له أجل
والعالم اليوم، هذا فوق خيبته
غاف، وهذا إلى أطماعه عجل
لكنهم، ما تمادوا في دنائتهم
وما لهم جوقة الأقزام تمتثل
لن يجرحوا منك يا بغداد أنملة
ما دام ثديك رضاعوه ما نذلوا!
بغداد.. أهلك رغم الجرح ، صبرهمو
صبر الكريم، وإن جاعوا، وإن ثكلوا
قد يأكلون لفرط الجوع أنفسهم
لكنهم من قدور الغير ما أكلوا!
شكرا لكل الذين استبدلوا دمنا
بلقمة الخبز.. شكرا للذي بذلوا
شكرا لإحسانهم.. شكرا لنخوتهم
شكرا لما تعبوا.. شكرا لما انشغلوا
شكرا لهم أنهم بالزاد ما بخلوا
لو كان للزاد أكالون يا جمل!
لكن أهلي العراقيين مغلقة
أفواههم بدماهم فرط ما خذلوا
دما يمجون إما استنطقوا، ودما
إذ يسكتون، بجوف الروح، ينهمل!
يا سيدي.. أين انت الآن؟ خذ بيدي
إني إلى صبرك الجبار أبتهل
يا أيهذا العراقي الخصيب دما
وما يزال يلالي ملأه الأمل
قل لي، ومعذرة ، من أي مبهمة
أعصابك الصم قدت أيها الرجل؟!
ما زلت تؤمن أن الأرض دائرة
وأن فيها كراما بعد ما رحلوا
لقد نظرت إلى الدنيا، وكان دمي
يجري.. وبغداد ملء العين تشتعل
ما كان إلا دمي يجري.. وأكبر ما
سمعته صيحة باسمي.. وما وصلوا!
وأنت يا سيدي ما زلت تومئ لي
أن الطريق بهذا الجب يتصل
إذن فباسمك أنت الآن أسألهم
إلى متى هذه الأرحام تقتتل؟
إلى متى تترع الأثداء في وطني
قيحا من الأهل للأطفال ينتقل؟
إلى متى يا بني عمي؟.. وثابتة
هذي الديار.. وما عن أهلها بدل؟
بلى... لقد وجد الأعراب منتسبا
وملة ملة في دينها دخلوا!
وقايضوا أصلهم.. واستبدلوا دمهم
وسوي الأمر.. لا عتب، ولا زعل!
الحمد لله.. نحن الآن في شغل
وعندهم وبني أخوالهم شغل!
أنا لنسأل هل كانت مصادفة
أن أشرعت بين بيتي أهلنا الأسل؟
أم أن بيتا تناهى في خيانته
لحد أن صار حتى الخوف يفتعل؟
وها هو الآن يستعدي شريكته
بألف عذر بلمح العين ترتجل!
أما هنا يا بني عمي، فقد تعبت
مما تحن إلى أعشاشها الحجل!
لقد غدا كل صوت في منازلنا
يبكي إذا لم يجد أهلا لهم يصل!
يا أيها العالم المسعور.. ألف دم
وألف طفل لنا في اليوم ينجدل
وأنت تحكم طوق الموت مبتهجا
من حول أعناقهم.. والموت منذهل!
أليس فيك أب؟.. أم يصيح بها
رضيعها؟؟ طفلة تبكي؟ أخ وجل؟
يصيح رعبا، فينزو من توجعه
هذا الضمير الذي أزرى به الشلل؟
يا أيها العالم المسعور.. نحن هنا
بجرحنا، وعلى اسم الله نحتفل
لكي نعيد لهذي الأرض بهجتها
وأمنها بعدما ألوى به هبل!
وأنت يا مرفأ الأوجاع أجمعها
ومعقل الصبر حين الصبر يعتقل
لأنك القلب مما نحن، والمقل
لأن بغيرك لا زهو، ولا أمل
لأنهم ما رأوا إلاك مسبعة
على الطريق إلينا حيثما دخلوا!
لأنك الفارع العملاق يا رجل
لأن أصدق قول فيك: يا رجل!
يقودني ألف حب.. لا مناسبة
ولا احتفال.. فهذي كلها علل!
لكي أناجيك يا أعلى شوامخها
ولن أردد ما قالوا، وما سألوا
لكن سأستغفر التاريخ إن جرحت
أوجاعنا فيه جرحا ليس يندمل
وسوف أطوي لمن يأتون صفحته
هذي، لينشرها مستنفر بطل
إذا تلاها تلاها غير ناقصة
حرفا... وإذ ذاك يبدو وجهك الجذل!
يا سيدي؟؟ يا عراق الأرض.. يا وطني
وكلما قلتها تغرورق المقل!
حتى أغص بصوتي، ثم تطلقه
هذي الأبوة في عينيك والنبل!
يا منجم العمر.. يا بدئي وخاتمتي
وخير ما في أني فيك أكتهل!
أقول: ها شيب رأسي.. هل تكرمني
فأنتهي وهو في شطيك منسدل؟!
ويغتدي كل شعري فيك أجنحة
مرفرفات على الأنهار تغتسل!
وتغتدي أحرفي فوق النخيل لها
صوت الحمائم إن دمع ، وإن غزل
وحين أغفو... وهذي الأرض تغمرني
بطينها... وعظامي كلها بلل
ستورق الأرض من فوقي، وأسمعها
لها غناء على أشجارها ثمل
يصيح بي: أيها الغافي هنا أبدا
إن العراق معافى أيها الجمل!
They said that he was left lonely behind camels' caravan
And camels stepped forward nonchalant to him
His cameleer was egging on, still he was tolerant
And the awl of death in his waists is implanted
After the caravan has been arrived,
close to the house door,
he kneeled down his camel
Seeing him was bleeding from feet to head,
they became startled
What a patient country, Iraq you are!
You are patient as a camel!
All Iraqis all so like camel!
In its both sides, there is piercing awl!
Still going on until it reaches its heart's membrane
However, from its sanctity they destroyed
However, from its purity they provoked
However, they do their crimes overtly in its ground
However, they killed many people there…
And their bond collar around it encircling haughtily
And the awl of this bond in its bowels pierces deeply
And his cameleer sends his voice reluctantly
And his wound still bleeds severely.
O, what Job's Patience is!
After a while, it can be calmed!
Anyhow, this serious patience cannot be ended
O, the Job's Patience—
It is not a dress to be taken off easily,
Once it is unfitting to our body.
Not it is a house to leave it whenever we want
But it is a country, how can we leave it?
O, the Job's patience you may not be limited!
Living in it helps us to be completed…
It is the blazing area of all countries
Whereto out of this honourable place can we leave?
Perhaps they would say it couldn't shadow us…
In our ground, there isn’t sloping or mountain
They only shade remains:
It is the America's flags and its legions…
Is it to unbound man being acceptable?
In spite of thy lofty landmarks come down,
You stay the flower of the ground…
And those of lower status and vile men mount up
They were about thirty armies with many reserve forces
They came crowded along with relatives and neighbours.
All of them gathered in a country—
A country is smaller than each one of invaders' ground…
But it has unexampled such cordial chivalry…
Eyes so that…would be tearing…
As your patience Job, what it had done…
It turns as if mad once they made their offense
No such devastation it has seen previous,
The only offense of those savage hands criminals
No such devastation its sanctity has violated before
Unless those superpowers who come after…
Those who pronounced the ideals always in their lips
In each examine time; the ideals will be spitted out….
O, the patience of Job: what should you do?
If your foe is fearless and shameless, what shall do?
No shame, no shyness, no honour there is in his face…
Never thy foe into violation should be seen tired.
Never has been seen for others right respected.
What will you decide after all these devastations to us?
What do you say after all violations to us?
What would you say after all the ruins they left behind?
What would you say after thy gloomy days?
What would you say about this distress?
Our bread turns bitterer…
Our water turns shallower…
No solution remains but only to sharpen our nails
To be like knives, our nails must be sharpened…
O, the Job's patience we are tolerant nation…
We disregard until the patience dress becomes torn…
But when someone violates our blood,
And when our children life is threatened—
We shall be in deep furry and wrathful no longer…
Then only God will know the limit of our anger.
O, my Master Iraq – my country
I wish you remained in God's eyes guarded
Sun would not shine but only from its east side
And it would not go down unless it beseeched
O, the beautiful place in earth you are forever…
Still in its shores all eternal things—
Shall be slept and awakened…
O, the keeper of all earth its circle
The one, which to Balance, set order…
Since earth was encircled, its large needle turns diluted
And its Ferris wheel began in its cycle…
And the first letter revelation came down…
All of them conveyed to the world its aliphatic message
And all whom felt arrogant transferred from its message…
I ask you by God!
Are you small so that can be easily knocked down?
Dis! They should be chased away!
By God, they could not achieve their purpose …
Let them multiply our sorrow, as they want…
Our patience and our sorrow, no doubt will end
The world of today in spite of its frustration—
Still it is in its napping
And this one on its greed goes ahead hurrying…
Although in their ignobility they don’t have slacked—
And once more, the troop of dwarfs to them listened
They cannot slash from thee Baghdad even a fingertip!
So long as yours people didn’t fallen in dishonour
Baghdad, your people despite of wounds—
Their patience is as the patience of "generous Man"
And even if they strived hunger and lost their children—
And due to starvation perhaps they eat from their flesh,
But from others' cooking pots never had they eaten…
Thanks to those who bargained our blood in a loaf of bread.
Thanks to those who helped us in honesty…
We would appreciate our gratitude to their cordial help …
Thanks is to everyone got fatigued
Thanks to the food, they pushed to us immediately…
We are in debt to those who never behold their hands
O, camel,
If only to the bread, there were eaters!
But my nation the Iraqis—
Against food, they have bloody shut mouthed…
In how much they have had frustrated….
They spit blood out of their mouths in speaking—
But when they were in silence,
They swallowed the blood inside their bowels
O, my Master, where are you now?
Take my hand I am in thy patience worry!
And should I shout strangely!
Is it oddly the fertile Iraq converted to blood?
But the glimpse of hope still Iraq waits…
I want you forgive me to ask thee you "Man"!
From what uncertain nerve had you rocky nerves?
Do you still believe that earth still reserves its honour?
Do you still believe that the honourable men stay un-departed?
I have looked to the world and my blood running in my veins…
Yet Baghdad in my eyes' pupil is going in fire…
The most of things I have heard:
It is the echoing of my name…
And never had they got arrival!
And you my Master still waves to me…
That's the way leads to this deep hollow…
Therefore, by thy name I shall ask them from now…
Until when are these relatives still fighting one another?
Until when can bosoms reserve pus instead of pure milk?
Then it would be transfer from child to child…
Until when do my cousins we stay in wait?
And this homeland never can be displaced
Never their habitants can be displaced…
Yes! Arabs find another native land to themselves…
And faction after faction to the new opinion they entered…
They bargain with their origin… and
Lastly, they have changed their bloods….
Then the matter is settled without blaming or anger…
Praise is to God, now we are engaged in work…
And them with their cousins are busy in work
We would have mere question to ask…
Is it mere an accidental event?
Did javelins go setting off directly between relatives? Or
Is it someone between us is consumed in his betrayal?
Still in betrayal, therefore the horror overcomes him!
Now he turns asking the help of his wife…
In the twinkling of one eye—
Thousand of excuses are ready in her part…
Now my cousins I turn exhausted…
Therefore, I am as if partridges yearning to its nests…
Every sound in our homes turns to be uttering of cry—
When he didn’t find relatives, he was drown in cry
O, the crazy fierce world what is about thee?
Thousand bloods in each day are entwined…
Thousand children per a day are twined…
And you put in the collar of death in delight…
Around their necks and the death itself is wondering…
Are you fatherless?
Or her partner infant shouts to her?
A small child cries saying!
My brother is frightened….
He shouts awfully then he withdraws due to his pain…
Is it the concise is going to be paralyzed?
O, the mad fierce world, yet we are here…
In spite of our wound we celebrate
So that, we can return to this ground, its shiny face….
So that, we can return to it, its safety after it was violated
You the harbour of pains: gather its ordeals
As long as patience can be considered, you may strive…
Because you complain as our hearts, you may look…
Because you are the eyes—
Without thee, we haven’t hope and no pride
They entered thy borders—
Because no lion they met in their way.
Because you were left alone, they entered…
Really, the best word I can say to you "Man"…
It is because of you are the empty and giant one yet!
How do you want me to believe thee you "Man?"
In order to I believe thee—
Thousand loves leads me not one occasion…
Not celebration arouses me because it is just reasons…
Let me tell you privately, and let me say:
"You are the lofty place is in all its towers"
And I shan't repeat what they had said and asked…
But I shall ask the history if it could be forgiver…
When our pain is converted to an uncured wound!
And I shall fold around its page if they bring again
Not to be mere an omitted matter…
However, to be spread matter by a brave one…
Perhaps when he recites it, never will he forget word…
Hence, your glad visage will shine again…
O, my Master, The Iraq of all ground,
Indeed! My country you are….
And in each time I have mentioned…
My eyes would be drowning in tears….
Still I repeat until I am choked in my voice…
Then I turn free of my sorrow…
Once I see honour and paternity in thy eyes…
The treasure of my life you are….
The beginning and the ending to me you are…
The best thing I had is that:
I am in your age becomes old more…
And I would say:
Do you my gray hair can honour me?
It turns gray hair since the day I was nearby thy Rivers…
If only all my hairs converted to wings…
Perhaps I flew there…
Then I could flap nearby your Rivers…
Perhaps I could wash my hairs….
I wish my letters over the palm tress would settle.
Perhaps it had the coo sound…
As pigeons cooing, when they chanted sadly or gladly
I wish that when I slept forever—
And I was covered under its ground…
Perhaps under its mud my bones could be buried
Then the ground over my corpse shall be flourished
Then I might hear its murmuring over its trees…
It seems to me as if drunken sound calling me:
O, the sleeper, Iraq gets recovery
O, camel, Iraq had recovery….