For: Dr. Hasan Nadhem 1 In his childhood He sat in the street begging for a mother. In his boyhood He sat in the café opposite to the cemetery Begging for a father. In his youth He sat at History leafing the years Begging for a grandfather. When he grew aged He remembered that he had never played cards. He gambled so as to lose everything To lose the street, the café, the History, The childhood, the boyhood and the youth. 2 After his horrible loss, He checked his pockets under the big setting sun. He found nothing in them Only found the picture of the Jack in the playing cards The picture of the Jack, Perhaps was hidden by Time into his torn pockets To deepen his ruin and earthquake. 3 The boy was nice-looking. Because of him, He crossed the great desert to see him. Yes, he was nicer than an angel’s tear. When the boy grew older Everything changed. It was said that the boy is Satan The boy is As-Sheen 1 An-Nuun 2 The dot. 4 The boy said, Said the boy: The woman who sits beside the king Does not deserve that For she plays the game of Ah. He also said: the one who sits under the king’s foot Does not deserve that For she plays the game of nakedness. And the one who bears the king’s fan And drives his chariot Does not deserve that For he knows that the air is not fresh But he does not utter a word And he knows that the chariot only goes back But does not raise the street behind it. The boy said And said. 5 It is said that the boy is a heresy. The boy is confusion. The boy is a remarkable damnation As long as we travel in the wrong ship Into the wrong sea In the wrong direction Voyaging to the sun of unfaithfulness and brass Not to the sun of assurance and gold. 6 What made me believe what was said by the boy? The boy was nice-looking Wearing the crown of youth on his head And the pearl of meaning And a handless watch. The boy was as sharp as the sword That cut the heads off my grandfathers And the head off my dream And the head off my letter and dot. 7 Where to go now? Was the boy lying or exaggerating? Was the boy dreaming or talking nonsense? Or was I the one who was dreaming and talking nonsense? Was the boy really in the playing cards? Or was it a playing with the picture of the Jack? Which one of us is the boy, which one of us is the father? Is the boy really the prince? That is what I certainly say And I say just one word: The boy is all that is left for me After I lost everything. The boy is the exile The exile that I see now from my royal veranda Which is surrounded by fire, curses And the naked masses of people. The exile that I see now Eyeless Lipless. The exile whose stones roll on With great slowness and pain. **** 1.Arabic letter 2. Arabic letter