Between Iraq and Egypt in quest for a peaceful home

Abdul-Aziz Ali Omer
Promise me: wrinkles. Your beauty is fake. ….you are the meaning of tear in every touch at an embrace in which mourners take their refuge. ….The morning light broke over Egypt some day at the pyramids. My small age didn’t surpass months so even the touch of sunlight hurt me. The pharaoh passed by me for a smile’s demand and to forbid him, I made weeping walls. Somewhere, a priest contemplated me while he was biting his finger. He said:” I see blowing winds that will destroy thrones and palaces with open doors. The pharaoh needs making an army. I foresee that this child will become a poet to construct on papers a monument of a dove that fled with no wound. Hazbar Mahmud- the Iraqi freedom poet


اعدنى تجاعيدا فحسنك كاذب. ....أنت معنى الدمع فى أى لمسة عند العناق تلوذ بها النواحب. .....بمصر حل الصبح بيوم على الاهرام وعمرى قليل ماتجاوز اشهرا لذالك حتى لمسة الضو�� موجعة. وقد مر بى فرعون يطلب بسمة فشيدت أسوار البكا�� لامنعه . تأملنى يوما كاهن وقد عض اصبعا , فقال: أرى ريحا تهب فحطمت عروشا وأبواب القصور مشرعة. أرى هذا الطفل يصبح شاعرا يقيم على الاوراق نصب حمامة مضت بلا جرح وفرعون يحتاج جيشا ليصنعا . هذبر محمود- شاعر الحرية العراقى. .

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