Abdulrahman Almajedi

abdulrahman almajedi 1

My uncle Salman
suffered a stroke
when his sons changed
his profession
from farmer to labourer.

He became silent.
One night they heard him weeping
like a widow in his bed.

In the morning he was gone.
They searched for him
in the alleys of al Thowra,
in its houses,
its street corners.
They found nothing.

A visitor came from al Amara,
days later.
He told them that an old man had been found
one night, weeping like a widow
in a shrub infested boat
in the drained marsh,
suffering from a stroke.

Al Thawra is a district in Baghdad where the marshes have been drained.
Al Amara is a town in southern Iraq

translated by Dikra Reda

1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to “Escape

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s