A Memory Of Baghdad

“I see you pale; I see you dying
Hold on Baghdad; hold on home of me!
Together we will live [the] better days,
Together we shall be,
ever rising!” Nadia Faydh

In 1903 Maydan square was but motion,
The Neon skyline flares and noon of trading;
Old city walls led a figure-eight dance –
For meandering and joyful,
Ministers and maidens…

Whose perfume was it to muster?
To the flocking mint; & Musk;
The stars, oh those stars…
That fell at dusk.
Whence beneath lay a city, as such,
And it did more than make a skin glad.

Oh once poetic and alluring Baghdad.

An Eastern moon of a winter sky,
Cried brightly forth years and a gush of beauty;
The prettiest city in all of Arabia, they knew, a gem!
Al-Ferdouse: tree lined and balmy.

Before the lights went out,
She was a rustic Venice or Prague,
Take a stroll through winding simplicity,
And remember the memory of being glad.

Oh, once poetic and alarming Baghdad.