Fadhil Al Azzawi Poems

I confess that I have lived my life:
I tasted so many things
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Three Bedouins in a desert,
Carrying sacks strapped to their shoulders,
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In a tavern in Transylvania
- It was evening -
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Do not light up a match in a forest
A bird is afraid of fire!
Do not sit in a sunrise
Someone might be looking for light!
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There's nothing easier than writing a magical poem
If you have strong nerves
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From an old folk song
A couple of slaves fell on the roof
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Every night I place this creature on my table
And pull its ears,
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We have tales full of tragic knights,
who descend upon burning horses
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In one of my incomplete poems
A sentence challenged another
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This desolate valley is crowded with thieves
But I cross it alone.
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