The poet is bewitched by light and darkness,
by a dagger that delights in misery
by wind and ruin and echo
The poet, a grave dragon,
awakes in the evening dreaming of words.
The departed bury his voice.
Oncomers trample over his grave.
And he has no option but go on.
The poet is stone
ringing…
The bewitched poet pains…
22 February 1997
Hatif Janabi (born 1952) Iraq
Translated by Khaled Mattawa
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