Classic Poem

Amin, you came to Iraq, wanting to see
How grand it was,
And how unique:

Forgive me, but the star has been put out;
After its darkening, the people seek
Only contention.

You must know:
Iraq, though beautiful, has emptinesses
And they invade places where people live —

Old fertilizing rains
Are still the same, but nothing now can thrive
For the rains flow in different directions.

And every Spring is what it was
But now, each time it comes, it complains
Of barrenness, and people are

Captives of ignorance.
Amin, do not be angry:
For all my words I can find evidence —

How can you hope
for progress, if the road our rulers
Take deranges

The real Iraqi road? Who can find any
Good in a land where swords
Are in the grip of cowards, misers

Manipulate the moneybags, and wisdom
Is minded only
By folk in exile, knowledge belongs

To strangers and the power
To interlopers, where from the few
Who tyrannize

The many,
The scraping, bowing many