One
River would bestow the nation
Night
passed and we wait another
So dark that you can't see your palmOne River
As two eyes above
hanged in one's way
*****
Death at the zone of sun
Severe bloodshed and the matter is serious
My Iraq
One
River would bestow the nation
Night
passed and we wait another
So dark that you can't see your palm
A man
came whispering between the trees
He
logged but scything bushes as a meteor
Aspherical
shape and the ground is wetted
Balanced
into two ways then it fogged
A
yellow dress put on as that grass faded
It
comes, he said on a faint voice
The
wagon which carrying the half-corpus
And
this end would have two ways opened
Garrulous
into his speech but often nodding
He
said, the north, would keep you go on
While
the south, will keep you going down
These
dichotomies had been engraved
On
your faces since you were born
And
this tree I would keep to be a shade
To
whom dismissed and being homeless
Therefore,
dearest sons I am your uncle
His
face is spherical like the full moon
Looks
like Shatt al-Arab when plodded
In One River
************
The life art
As two eyes above
hanged in one's way
Keeping aside not to
glimmering one day
I so far keep my
emotion of those blonds
To see my heart
captured fetching stay
I can't reckon on eyes
being smart
While in deep piercing
a smoothable part
This way is often
trodden by softy legs
And it is since
ancient years the life art
Can't you promise
giving me a new soul?
Then I into pleasure
hear my solo fall
Come and drink up
until you satisfy
I am not your beverage
as a given dole
Tread upon my grave near
that wooded lake
And give your cattle
the way a time you awake
That huts you passed
are my letters of proof
And any Holy word it
may on opposite shake.
*****
Death at the zone of sun
Severe bloodshed and the matter is serious
My Iraq
Innocent people could say hi to who answer
And the fate is ominous comes on heads down
As the wind when smoothed the ground
Whispering under the tool of those vulgar
The honest of them is either bagger or burglar
Dark nights and the moon has a dim shadow
And the stars being clinched on high skies
Sending blazes of blasts mixed with fires
Sparkling down and up the mouths of rivers
And the soul of ego is implanted between rips
It could be never washing the salty bodies
And a sparrow might be frightened going abroad
As a migrant who never thought to come back
While its bough shaking and crying
A flake of sorrow welcoming the dawn
And a man in that side going frozen
To those still at north having no desire
But crumbled on cities as blind nation
