The forth Iraqi characters

" Ah .. hurts me not my head
But hurts me your head ! "
Dunia Michael

In their first water
Feel in the embryos of the water dying in steam
And rivers drown in the dead, banks, and sloth.
Hearing in the taps the sounds of fugitives from thirst,
reading on their large jar �. "Drink Al-Hussein and remember the thirst of water ".
(their fathers )�� are mellow thirst / sand mixed with blood
(their fathers )�� are hard dizziness / a hand mill grinds the mirage.
They go out to war,
In returning, find not what they ablute with
Ablute not but the cemetery.

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In their first air
Feel exhaling of the tired angels and epiglottis of demons in the sky' paths
Smell their eyes' perfume that see from inside the fire the veins of the unseen
Touching the lungs of the cells which breath their buried beauty.
Their women�.. are coloured estrangement / eyeliner and tears in the chariot of wind their women ��are perfumed sorrow / black clothes in lost suitcases.
The oven bet on loafs of their faces but the war won.
As it ended , the wings of crews breathed as did the fans of the narrow rooms.

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In their first fire
Feel in the vibration of splinters in the backs of those who return from trenches
Burning cigarettes in a smoker's pocket who became a cigarette of death
And the warmth of tumors grow in children's heads
Their children�.. are painted laugh / playing cards bear not the joker
Their children�.. are crumbled beauty / bread dipped by life in roads at noon
For the world's children are there balls to play with
There are no heads to have
Their heads were balls of the others.

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In their first dust
Feel with the dust.

Written by : Zahir Mosa