The Disavowal - Muthaffar al-Nawab

My son, when your rib supported mine

you restored it and set it straight

My son, take me to the feast in your arms

Count the white hairs I reaped from your life

My son, blindness has spilled into my eyes

I came with my heart’s eye

Crawling on the path you tread

My son, carrying the reed basket

reminds my shoulders of when you played on them

For a year your hands were two flowers on my head

Through you I sang to the joy of a life I`d forgotten

Seeing you brings back pure water to my body

Makes me live again when am dead

The white in your eyes is the milk of my breast

The black the night I spent crying by your cradle

I told your son who’s just started playing in his cradle:

Don’t fear being an orphan, grandson

He who has no father, the party will be his father

and his home

I told him: Oh son, my son

When you grow older you`ll find your father’s belt

which never let me down

You will find letters from him that I will hide

Right next to my rib until I die

Proud of the secret I guarded

O pillar of my house, moon of my night

spring of my white hair and the life I have reaped

I came to shake you, my pillar

In case time has weakened a bone in you

Making you vulnerable to meekness or betrayal

Compromising your wound and abandoning it

My son, let the wound gush, let it bleed and pour, my son

My son, a wound that refuses a bandage

Is a rebels’ flag fluttering high

My son, I’d rather breastfeed a dog than

have a son throw me the crumb of disavowal

Let mange eat my bones and flesh

Let my eyes die before I see such disgrace

My son, these are days where drought reigns 

Days of torment and trial 

My son, don’t defile our honor

My son, disavowal will forever be foul

Do you know that with each disavowal

Every martyr is exhumed and buried again

Put your hands on my hoary head

Swear by every drop of my pure milk 

By my lost eyesight and tell me:

No one will speak ill of me

You are my mother and this is my party

My father’s pride that never let me down

Nor will I ever let it down

Tell me: I will never destroy a party

I built with my own hands

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Muthaffar al-Nawab (1934 - 2022) Iraq

Translated by Sinan Antoon

Source: Jadaliyya