Their play allures me. Playing with water invokes the blaze of childhood. I have to create a child, but they overwhelmed him by their deceit, so he drowned. I left them, over-exhausted and about to kill myself out of grief. The inhabited house stopped me. They said it was inhabited by jennies, since its Indian dwellers left, I don’t know whether they were Persians, Jews, Christians or Moslems. However, they used to work as local cigarettes (Mezben). We were very young, working for our fees. I remember nothing, except for their food and my hand happy with its salary. I felt that a group of jenny is eavesdropping. I took my old self and walked out. It seems that the way to the cafe is difficult today. A white castle severely cuts my way. I got close to its door on top of the stairs, and to the small windows of the cellar. The cold taste of the air we used to breathe while playing movies didn’t change. All actors of the world are our friends. We knew them closely; Allen Lande, Anthony Quinn, and all the sportsmen; ‘unkle Baba’, ‘Jamuli’, the Syrian goalkeeper named ‘Al-Saltaji’, ‘Eusebio’, ‘Pele’, and ‘Moayad Al-Badri’ who is loved by all. Oh, I am starving, the scent of rice with the ‘Sheppard’ butter, the ‘Tarshana’ with beef, is beating in my unsatisfied hunger, while it is still coming out, fresh and steaming with the perfume of ‘Aashuraa’ and the gathering of neighbors. Oh, great. The castle bows down over the body of food, which Time is still eating. This is my third grief, and I know not how many grieves I still have. Somebody screams: the sword is burning. The old ‘Tamer’ dates store has now become a tires garage. If the ‘Tamer’ dates were alive, fuel would not inflame. If I were stronger, I would bring back what the train took away from this abundant spot, around which people roam and see what benefits them; golden ‘Tamer’ dates, fresh vegetables, fruits watered by clay unpolluted by dissolute plants. Burning fuel, dispersing sufferings, a cafe fleeing away, distance is overfull, agonies are running out.
Hussain Alghdban is an Iraqi poet and he is a member of the Tajdeed Literary Institute and the International Prose Poetry Society. His name appeared in Tajdeed literary magazine and Arcs magazine for prose poetry. He isthe author of poetry collections.
