In your (third) calling the world. <br />You made a mistake twice <br />You said; the fourth world. <br />And you are throwing the twentieth <br /> Mass. <br />Take the last stones. <br />Devil is throwing in your eyes his <br /> Flames. <br />And charms disappoint you, that you take care of in starting your trips. <br />You afraid….hungry…slew <br />On the exile torture cross <br />Where can songs, put you, that you made in the sea-gulls? <br />In your (third) calling the world. <br />You made a mistake once you said; if its spirit penetrated in your bad words shall be grown, home_ land shall born from the palm roots. <br />From the poor plains which wears your suffering eyes. <br />Its words got in and words raised. <br />And home-land didn't! <br />You new last lands were born <br />So, start your third speech to the world again <br />In your (third) calling the world <br />You forgot to make a mistake <br />So, you couldn't talk. <br />You've gone after your restrictions <br />In voice, in clouds <br />Baghdad was distributing its pains on rain <br />And burn sorrowfulness in eye-balls <br />And you were afraid of rain <br />From eyes falling in rain <br />From evenings that play rain <br />From years malted by rain <br />In your (third) calling.. <br />You listened alone to the world. <br />You've gone after your silence. <br />And came back afraid. <br />From its whisper that tears <br />The stone. <br /> <br />By Abdulrhman Mohammed Ali Almwalad <br /> <br />Translation made by Mohammed A. Al-Kumaim<br /><br />Abdulrhman Mohammed Ali Almwalad<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-baghdad-whispers/
