It is strange how men of blood seek to depict themselves as artistic and sensitive creatures. Hitler claimed to be a painter and an architect, Stalin enjoyed a night at the opera; now Saddam Hussein has taken to writing poetry.
His lawyers, doubtless trying to play to the court of media opinion, published one of Saddam's poems the other day.
Here is a translation:
Ode to Iraq
My heart is still with me as my enemies will not be able to exile it.
And the handcuffs will not prevent my prayers from being heard.
Who said that the west have approached the holy Arab land with good intentions?
Who said that water could drive a wise man drunk?
Who said that an animal could protect the virginity of a woman?
Who handcuffs a lion will be the leader, even if he was originally nothing but a bastard.
I warn you of the loss of a civilisation and dignity by the hands of traders.
My body is still firm and will not soften, and the blood of the great nobles is still moving in my veins.
Beloved Iraq is the crown of the hearts and the title of the greatest poems.
Oh Iraqi send my regards to the children who lost their toys under the rubble caused by oppression.
Send my regards to the women whom their dresses were torn by betrayal.
Send my regards to the resistor who is wearing the dress of pride and the spirit of a martyr.
Oh Iraq send my regards to every inch of your surviving land.
I'm afraid that it does nothing for me, with regard to "rubble cuased by oppression" Saddam should remember the old phrase about the pot calling the kettle black.
No comments:
Post a Comment