O; happy folk, poetry is the fingers of light, descending at evening like an old farmer with eyes cut from azure. It told me that the sun has two long braids, and goes out at dawn to her grandfather’s flourishing orchard. It resembles, to a large extent, the enchanting Kashmiri gardens. Yonder, faces are pure, and remind me of the ancestors, white apples are glimmering like pearls. If only you saw it while wrapping itself with silk, if only you saw its tender rivers, as soft as the hearts of Basra folks. It advised me to leave the purple coasts, because the sea is a free bird which doesn’t live in this base world. It was talking calmly, I was listening, then I was overwhelmed by weeping. It told me that Iraq is the brother of the sun. This was bizarre and astonishing news. If so, where are the orchards of our dear grandfathers? Where are the thriving Kashmiri gardens?
Poet’s Note: A translated Arabic prose poem, written by Anwer Ghani and translated by Fareed Ghanem.
• Anwer Ghani; an Iraqi poet and literary theorist, born in 1973 in Hila city, and he lives in Iraq now and worked in a hospital as consultant physician. He had collections in Arabic in e-book form (Language 1) 2014, (Language 2) 2015, (Language 3) 2016, and many books in poetry criticism in Arabic and in e-book form with unique ideas and post-stylistic criticism .He is the chief editor of a literary magazine (Tajdeed) deals with Arabic prose poems, and he is the chief editor of a literary magazine in English (International prose poem journal). He writes the polyphonic (multi-voices poems), mosaic (mirror language poems), abstract poems and expressional narrative poems. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org Facebook : Anwer Ghani Almosewi
Splashes of green lined up row after row. Limbs of green shooting skyward downward everywhere. Vibrant light shades of newness this time every year. Each displaying its own vibrant uniqueness. As the winds blow hot, green takes on a mature