Badr Shaker Al-Sayyab: Complete Poetical Works (Two Books)

And how often I called out during the days or nights of my sleep: “O my mother, come and touch my leg and heal me.”

The snow groans, and the crows howl for those who folded in it, and between my bed wet to the bottom with rain and your grave, the rivers roar and the seas roar to the bottom, shaken by the hurricane.

Didn't the wind carry to you through the stillness of the night the crying of your granddaughter from Tuwa and your hungry grandson? We have gone hungry, and in silence we have endured hunger and deprivation, and our secret has been violated, children weeping from woe

In the homeland that harbored hunger? What sorrows disturb the eyes of the dead?