This earth we love
Grows no jasmine flowers
For the taking
And the potent Euphrates
Begets no olive or fig
Under the patronage of renegades.

Leave my sacrificed country
The slain people
Orchards . . .
Waterways . . . and clay
And leave us in peace.
We won't exchange the pig for the wolf
Nor the plague for tuberculosis
Nor death for leprosy.

Leave my country . . .
The helmet of occupiers can never be a pigeon's nest.

Leave my country . . .
The spilt blood will never become lavender flowers

Leave my country . . .
Now the long-suffering orchards, their springs dry these two generations past,
Cry out, leave my country . . .
Hands off the wronged people, before we retaliate
Free us from you . . .
From the falseness of trademarks
From those who deal in oil and siphon wars
The publicans of strife
Bread thieves
Guides of occupation armies
Those who savour whoredom
Auctioneers of stolen goods and
A corruption of right and wrong.
Leave my country . . .
Drink a victory toast to the commandant of prison guards
In the war on an imprisoned people.
Yes, we were vanquished before the war began:
A date palm begging for dates . . .
Fields begging for grain . . .
And clay.
Blood of the clay poured
From the castle gates
To the mihrab.
So leave my country
And give us the chance to bury our dead
To pull out from under the heap
Corpses not yet of an age to be weaned

Leave
Before the date palm of Iraq shudders awake
And unsheathes the swords of vengeance

Translated by Eva Sallis