Tigris The Welfare Donor Poem by Muhammad Mahdi Al-Jawahiri

I greet your bank 'Tigris' from distant
Please welcome me
Tigris the welfare donor, Tigris the orchards owner
Please welcome me
I greet your charming bank thirsty seeking your shelter.
As if white- pigeons go back and forth within your mud and water.
Tigris the fresh water source, how can I leave you willingly?
Only in that once I leave you from time to time reluctantly.
I thrust painfully to each fresh water source eagerly.
One after one but none quenches my eager soul properly.
Mayest thou the watercraft dance between this gentle breeze!
Bouncing calmly attracting with howsoever the breeze plays.
I wish that cheap sail were my shroud. Woe!
Wrapped this wrecked torture soul at death, if only vow!
Tigris the welfare donor; our wishes are less than possible.
Less than the unguaranteed ambition, alas it is terrible.
Do you secure for me a nap- shelter to repose?
Within your bank grasses and this flourish rose.
Peacefully grasp my painful torture soul even in distance border.
Yet the throbbing heart still conscious on thy torture.
Shakes me and drift me hallucinatory until I run swiftly.
Likes the wind hastens the milestone blades to run continuously.
Tigris the welfare donor and witch outlook- River.
You are the vat of wine putting in the shadow of vine-cluster.
However, you are the death-stroke, you have charming feature.
Although you are the olive branch, you have betrayal nature.
Tigris you are the jewel of Baghdad in cheering and flirtatious.
Till when you stay the jewel as far as with those in powers.
You Tigris is the witness of 'Thousand and One Nights'.
Still its tone is eternal and stays delight.
One day you were the amusement resort of Abu Nawas The poet.
Since the civilization had attired one day the Harun al-Rashid ornament.
He was the courteous perfect man of sweet time.
Who, he made the act of sin to be wisely on his regime.
Who he dragged the jar of wine but in hatred.
Who he spent the money on charity thousand after thousand.
The pawner of the silk damask clothes dispraisingly.
A caliph... he is the inspirer of ancient arts to be diversely.
He was the hearer of era and its people the knocking of bells one day.
Still knocks and knocks at the festival of Palm Sunday.
Tigris the donor of welfare your sufferance affects my passion seriously.
The sadness that covers you turns to be my heart malady.
Yet the scourges of oppression still wet on thy pure water occasionally.
The offensive oppressive horses still lick up on your water.
Every morning they storm into the peaceful villages and cities center.
Tigris the welfare donor, however, the age is about to end.
Good deed and the vicious deed could never blend.
No good deed that is with viciousness is associated
Not to be free of Satan act unless with good-hearted.