A story circulated by his friends holds that a paper was found in his bloody shirt, which contained a last, unfinished, poem. It read: “By my horse / I laid dead on the pavement, homeland slipping away.”
Iraqi poet and scholar Ghareeb Iskander lives and writes in London: Great Perplexity By Ghareeb Iskander Translated by Salma Harland * In translating Derek Walcott, Words stalk Like egrets do In his later poems, Where he wanted To speak of regret But was overshadowed with delight In a frenzy “like a shallop with a staved-in … Continue reading Monday Poetry: Ghareeb Iskander’s ‘Great Perplexity’
“One of the trickiest, most mysterious secrets of the Arabic language is the root h-l-m.”
"They were not sieving, / But dancing to the rhythm."