Night, guitar and a cup of coffee

And the river sweeping up its waves

Between this and that, I have emotion

Darling thing never can be forgotten

Some of birds were going sleep.

And night blows its breeze coolly  

While the vision of the stars turn aside

Enormously its shadow touched down

A moment comes as if a revolted tyranny

Once an echo staved off my emotion

Meanwhile it was too dark feeling disturbed

I picked up my stuff to welcome the desert

Thrown my suitcase, I set up a fire

And the blues covered me from all sides.

Remotely it comes as if a Newton apple

A moment my desire was declined

I passed asking the moon what was defined.

It clavately turned as if it had eclipse

And runs as if it had inevitable journey

By God, what happens to my mind?

Deserted only my thick hear I scratched

Nevertheless of all these amusements,

My feet dragged me to trapping

I stood as an angle of attack ascending.

The moment of curse I stopped

And as a retreating oneself I hastened       

No, Iraq must not be divided

  No, Iraq must not be divided

Across history Iraq is united

You the politicians are dismantled

You the voices I hear selfishly shouted

Keep peace or shall we turn revolted

You can't do that only over our corpses

To redeem our Home, we mount our horses  

From north to south, we are one clapped hand

Viva to you country you may lively stand.

Nevertheless, we are sects or factions,

Our nation voice is one at hard missions.

Thou who claimed the victor in division,

You are monkeys out of any function.

My heart is with those poor everywhere

Thou country must always take care

A digital morph ever has a unique tune.  

As a pot never stands on one stone

O, my Iraq, let our dead tear out their shrouds

Tigris and Euphrates yet to thy deed are proud.

Nay, the country of honour still undivided

Eye! Every palm tree shall be frustrated

Aye, every stone shall be violently enraged

O, those, who, want their sway to be wide!

To which part can you stay if Iraq leads to divide?

Iraq is one Home having similar countryside

The same traditions of generosity and pride

Iraq is the core of sun that gives us light

The scythe of farmer glows optically bright.

The wristwatch never I put it back

O, my country: live long as a flying hawk.           

sorrow

Sorrow

I tore up my sorrow

I removed my sorrow

Let it going up mountains

Let it a slippery slope and died

To be as a gliding tone then stopped

To be smoothed in the sun

To never has been aches

To never its worms pinches

Is sorrow touchable?

Indeed, there is sorrow

Everywhere there is abuse

Everywhere there is death

Everywhere there is birth

But there is no freedom

Even if the slavery has been dated up,

Yet it comes as a new fashionable red light

Somewhere its gaps drafted and marched

In the marshes it was immersed

With our water it was immersed

Can't it be drinkable?

I know that something is wrong

Perhaps something in this life is wrong

 Yet there is a swan song

Yet there is friendship and song

Yet neighbours to neighbours long

Let them burned the sun

But not to burn up our fashionable moon

       

Mohammad-alrobaey-literary-blogpost : Everywhere

Mohammad-alrobaey-literary-blogpost : Everywhere: Everywhere Your vision meets me everywhere As a dawn breaks over my mansion As a thicket walled with a shapeless wall Once it co...

Everywhere

Everywhere

Your vision meets me everywhere

As a dawn breaks over my mansion

As a thicket walled with a shapeless wall

Once it comes as a multiple choice

Once it tickles my joints up to my arms

As I am feverish in amidst of winter

Yet I have tow letters to tell you

One is yours and other is mine.

And the clue of all these is time.      

Your vision comes up as a joyful music

Everywhere I listened as if deaf

But the murmur of leaves makes me awake

Suddenly it hesitated as if thick foams.

But I know, yet I know it is just dream   

Whence my destiny runs out of my passion

Once I cannot meet your eyes

Once you grow up large and educated

Yet I am just a hobbyist reader

Has been lost amidst of old papers

For what shall I read?

To which extent can I read?

Just a worthless human skippering at doors

O, the grief, let me shut up and never speak!

Since the flood never comes to my area

Am I dreamy? Or

 Am I a pensionable man?

No, I worked and still I work

My dream is to see blazing stars

Yet forgotten and diminished in our desert

As a stopless end of an old o'clock 

There the orchard of my life where you stop

There the moment of joy shall envelope

To be a wedding party for last years

Don’t disturb me again please

Your name is the bell jar of my time

"Nevertheless of all these"

Your vision meets me everywhere