Baghdadi Museum

Baghdadi Museum


Until now the walls are give off a pleasant smell
As the years was parked in the roads…. surfaces... .. ... Basements… sweets
Vendors
Grocers and porters
Ceramic pitchers repairmen
Weddings and circumcision ceremonies
At the time were things which grow in the joy
Under the polished winter sun rays
At the time of fixed-dimensional objects
When the beauty
Was quiet and simple
And the time was full of innocent childhood games
And the crafts have decorated by Arts
Oh how much this world is beautiful under the shadows of the dramatic contrast of black and white?
In the end, the poetry must be turned to a golden wagon that can fly in the streets of the city
Or an old train working with the coal of words that carved in clay ovens
An old train that passing the farms that just harvested
Newly
In that days, were the distance to the nearest farms takes the whole day
But the soul was beautiful in both cases
The straggling that in control this wing
And moisture emitted from the nozzle of cooling
That mouth which connect with the upper surface
And the bodies of absentees in the happy
Siesta
Winter fruit bowl around the charcoal grill
And the hands that are extending toward the live coal
Dancing in the hollow of the forgotten poem under a folded
Pillow
Which favorite language?
Could paint this pink bed of baby, who was perfumed with powder.
Or the crown of the brides bed
Henna drawing
At the feet of the Babylonian maids
The same drawing that will draw in the hennas night in the hands of young girls
And the Alhlahls** are sections in symphony
of the happy
Lightning



** happy continuous sounds of oriental women by playing the
tongue in the mouth

Abdel-Aziz Alhaider
[email protected]
aziz ali(facebook) Baghdad- iraq

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