Illusions of the old man
Abdul aziz al haider
In the deep bottoms
Close to the memories of the last drowning
Close to pleasant beings....
Is they are really pleasant?
When the years crawled under the door of age
And the years in the hand were astonished by this conspiracy
I sat infront of her, as any old man claims wisdom
Claiming that she did notyetleave the nearby Rose Garden
... and she with her childish braids play on the stairs of the heart
It is related to imaginary arms of the madly colored fantasy fabric... passing through paved streets
And she isreadingup on my head, poems ofPablo Neruda
When I am overwhelmed by the fever of surprise, she Covers me asold days with repeated kisses...
Ah……..
Is this... how the years hate us and escape from us with all this painful agony?
The old man will say, holding onthe threads of the heart,they are still... large colored tulips floating over the lush pond of laziness...
He will convince me as many times
It is no matter how high it will land in the white spring cloud
It is such delusions and similarities that the heart is filled with colorful joy
Andhe will go to a dark shade of poems... asking for some warmth of the fragile bones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem