Fadhil Al Azzawi

1940 / Kirkuk, Iraq

Too Much Water Flowed In The Rivers

Watching the waves
I sat at the bank
While jungle fires broke out
Leaving me their ashes.
You know that every boat we boarded
Was sunk by storm
And the waves dragged us
To the end of the Earth.
What should it matter
If we built our new home
Under water?
Believe me, I will not sadden or regret
To see my hair fall out,
Or see time
Carrying his horrible scythe,
Like a cunning doctor
Who's come to pull out the last of my molars,
As long as my friends like me as I am
And I can still love with all my heart.
I know I will stay young forever.
Only exile will grow old.
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