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.
© Michael C. Bernard 2010