Badr Shakir al-Sayyab


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The Drowned Temple

Horses nigh and harbours wait the sunset
Masts reflect rosy sunbeams blood alike!
Lanterns glimmer behind shabby tavern widows
The drink makes him as if an idol
Motionless he fears from the bottle…
He eavesdrops to the sound of choppy waves
Coming through the tavern window,
Shivery pop-eyed he talks on whispering…
Old aged man gulps cup after cup

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