Preface

 

 

This is a short autobiography of Anwer Ghani in English with poetic autobiography was written by Anwer Ghani and the last update was in 2019.

 

Poetic bio

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetic Autobiography

 

I AM AN IRAQI MAN

 

I am an Iraqi man; my life was postponed and my face was stolen by wars. I know nothing about beauty or Detain Falls.

I am an Arab man, and like you, I feel the value of life and the depth of a smile. I have family and children, and like you; I love coffee and eat eggs and cheese for breakfast.

I am a farmer from the south, and all what I carry in my pockets are oranges.

I am from here, the pain land; my father is the groaning and my mother is the weeping.

I am the war’s son; my memory was kneaded by her rugged dance and my heart colored with her gloomy soul. When the tales of the mountains ended at her cold knees, you will find me in her smoky corners with my dreadful shivering.

I am a doctor in my small town’s hospital, and in addition to this, I love the poets. The poets and the physicians are twins and they had drunk the spiritual milk from the same hopeful breast

I believe in poetry and always spend a huge effort in beseeching a paper to hang my dreams on her chest

I am a good reader and you know the poet as well as the physician is a good reader.

I am a Babylonian poet; I love the blossoms and the colors of the Kashmiri people’s dresses. I love Simic’s poems very much and I wish to visit the poetry institutes in New York, but I am banned, so I am sad, and I will tell this story to my children.

I am from the Middle East, and this is all my crime.

I am an Iraqi man waking up every morning with a poetic soul and a rhythmic speech and standing with my painting beside that tall tree but I can't forget that mud which we had kneaded with our pain and the sand which we had eaten with our bread.

I am neither a horse nor a rabbit and when the sunset kisses their old wood I realize the sweetness of the fence-less life, but when all these horses with their heroes stand on my back, at that time I will remember our war’s children.

I am an Iraqi man; my voice is vaporous as a shadow and my dreams’s clothes are as short as a laugh.

I am sitting behind the trees to see their glory, dissolving in my master words:" everything has a river soul, even you."

I am an Iraqi man knows nothing but death and see nothing but darkness. My land, and unlike Whitman continent, had immersed in gloomy desert, and stand barely with moonless nights and sunless days.

I am, the war’s son, can’t read Whitman’s poetry, because my eyes were stolen and all Whitman’s eyes which had seen the lustiness were cornered.

I am a good son of war, so I am her mirror. Look at my water, it is dirty and look at my future, it is nothing but vagueness.

I am not in anti-Whitmanism, and the human souls are miracles, but they are not a miracle of beauty as he saw. Here is my empty life, I don’t have a grass’ child and nothing in me can stand to see the glory

I am sure if Whitman is alive now, he will cry with bitterness, and he will forget his thirst for eternity. I know the sublime Whitman’s land, the sublime Whitman’s descent, and the sublime Whitman’s continent

I am merely a road and a shoddy vehicle for all this blossoming. Yes, I know that the human soul is a big universe, and Whitman, the life, will not die.

I am merely a lifeless shadow. Whitman’ eyes had seen the pain,

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.07.2020
ISBN: 978-3-7487-4959-2

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