Ode to Mosul

Toss me, over there like seeds in the air on banks of Tigris that flows in Mosul Go out and see How Mosul is free Despite the shackles Go out and see How the birds are singing On roofs of jails On the fence like angels When they turn to life, in March,in the silent jungle… They tend to be On chimneys of sadness And on every aged tree Just go out and see Just let your ears And listen to me Go out and fall In every poet’s light When he struggles to write In the depths of a dark cellar He believes that words will defeat his killer. He struggles to write … When he weaves the light In no morning’s night When he turns his black future, in a moment, to bright When he throws himself Like stars of hope That loom in the sight When he digs a hole In the wall Of siege…

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Go out And you will know What I am talking about When he plays on Oud And death is around It’s not in his account His fingers just dance On the strings of hope When he plays on Oud And his family is around His mother warns him To be more quiet

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The winged bull Will come to save his people To deploy the peace And to crack on evil The winged bull Will come, this time. for sure To retake all mills And distribute the loaf Equally To cattle and every poor. There is no longer injustice For sure