About: Hello dear stranger. This blog is a sanctuary; a sanctuary for the long forgotten. It contains a collection of poems from the Middle East. Do not be surprised by what you read. Do not despair. Keep an open mind. Enjoy. (British Iraqi. Half Feylî Kurd. Literature enthusiast.)

“Even if you are not with me, the memories of you are with me. My heart sees you, even if you are made vanished from my vision. The eye sees who it loves but will end up losing the sight of them. But the one who sees with their heart, will never lose the sight (of the people they love).”
Mahmoud Mohamed Shaker, Abu Fahr, Egyptian writer, poet, journalist and scholar of the Arabic language.
Hiroshima. I come and stand at every door / But none can hear my silent tread / I knock and yet remain unseen / For I am dead for I am dead / I’m only seven though I died / In Hiroshima long ago / I’m seven now as I was then / When children die they do not grow / My hair was scorched by swirling flame / My eyes grew dim my eyes grew blind / Death came and turned my bones to dust / And that was scattered by the wind / I need no fruit I need no rice / I need no sweets nor even bread / I ask for nothing for myself / For I am dead for I am dead / All that I need is that for peace / You fight today you fight today / So that the children of this world / Can live, grow, laugh and play - Nazim Hikmet
Political Prisoner. Behind a locked door. In a locked prison. In a locked desert. Of a locked homeland. A human being is kept in chains: none of us know him. The tortures might kick him. The cops might mock him. Even his companions might deny him. He might grow a beard to pass the time. The yellow journalists might vilify him. Not even mention his name. Or post it at night on Satan’s wall. But as he faces his executioners. Shackled in the darkness of his cell. United with the revolution which approaches like a mysterious song. He can destroy all the world’s prisons. And free us, before it is too late, from the legacy of fear. Though he is bound and wounded tonight. Tomorrow he will rise up; to set forth his history. - Al Azzawi
“I love autumn” she told me. And since that day, I’ve been falling.
What is homeland? To hold on to your memory: that is homeland. — Mahmoud Darwish
Even if the stars, the clouds, the wind and the sun do not see the murderers; when the birds are killed in the sky; and if the horizon turns a deaf ear to them; and the mountains and the rivers do not keep their memory; there ought to be at least one tree, who witnesses their death and writes their names into its roots. - Sherko Bekas
In the breast, knowledge is a lighted lantern; and on thy breast tis a coat of [nail] to ward off evil. - Rudaki *1914, Jewish scribes at the Tomb of Ezekiel near Babylon
Exile took us by surprise. A surgeon ready-scrubbed, he treated us with scalpels. Cleansed us of the dream tumours in the our organs, and pushed us into the last scene of a shadow theatre - in order that we perform for him our secondary roles. Who are we? Fury of some blind old man led by the thread of his loss; dice thrown on night’s page, leaving not an echo of their rolling. - Fawzi Karim
Where are you O Wild Deer? I have known you for a while, here. Both loners. Both lost. Both forsaken. The wild beast, for ambush, have all waken. Let us inquire of each other’s state. If we can, each other’s wishes consummate. I can see [that in] this chaotic field joy and peace sometimes won’t yield. O friends, tell me who braves the danger to befriend the forsaken?
No friends but the mountains. *Kurdistan, Iraq, 1991. A Kurdish woman and her daughter fleeing war. Photograph by Chris Kutschera.
In order to draw blood from Majnun the surgeon sharpened his lancet. Majnun wept and said, “I fear that in place of blood out will flow longing for Layla.” - Nizami
Since the day I may join my beloved is nowhere in sight, slowly I turn away from this love. “Impossible!” my heart cries out. It shakes its head and smirks at my sad plight.
![In the breast, knowledge is a lighted lantern; and on thy breast tis a coat of [nail] to ward off evil. - Rudaki *1914, Jewish scribes at the Tomb of Ezekiel near Babylon](https://64.media.tumblr.com/77897a24c4c6ad03cb0661c2e6504732/tumblr_n8hnwn0SC91r7fnc1o1_500.jpg)
![Where are you O Wild Deer? I have known you for a while, here. Both loners. Both lost. Both forsaken. The wild beast, for ambush, have all waken. Let us inquire of each other’s state. If we can, each other’s wishes consummate. I can see [that in]...](https://64.media.tumblr.com/219b6164d3c3f4078bb9a28d07d21b02/tumblr_nai14dDD2j1r7fnc1o1_r1_500.jpg)
