Poems by Ahmad Alkhatat

Poems by Ahmad Alkhatat


What Will Remain

What will remain of me
today or the next coming year,
will it be worth a bird’s feather

The only grief in my bloodroot
is the sad song of nightingales
like a wedding with a mother in a picture frame

In this life I could live
foolishly and lost in problems
with a place in darkness to weep till I die

The tattooist of previous wars
asked me about my homeland
I told him that I was sold to the land of happiness

With a friend who broke my trust,
a woman who died before loving me,
And parents who denied my existence

What will remain of me, not
an expensive pen, but an
unreadable diary of the depths of my soul.


Beneath White Smoke

Beneath white smoke
There is the sun with sharp rays
with a widow hidden behind
the curtain of an old window

Worried to waste more tears
from the warlight that was bought
of the moon light when she had
received the coffin of her man

Even favors are worth the cost
of bullets from the enemies guns
frame pictures have lots of dust
then the dead heros on the frontline

I sense a need to walk somewhere
near where death is collecting
the right spirit to heaven, to free
the world youthful sufferings

The blind walks with a cane
and I lay down and pray to
See you awake but far from
my rusty flesh in the clouds

In dark places, I taste the flames
and I enjoy the fire burning my
flesh and damaging my bones into
ashes for not waking anyone

One way or another night will not
be great for a book like myself
with pages full of miserable tears
writing about my demands to death

Into the water of the lake, I see
the fishes gathering around my sadness
worried to see me missing in days
where happiness wins over my grieves.


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