From the poem Traveler without Luggage by Iraqi poet `Abdul-Wahab Al-Bayyati (my translation):
“…under the sky
without hope
inside me the self dies
like a spider
my self dies
and on the wall
the light of the day
absorbs my years,
and spits it out in blood
the light of the day
Never for me, was this day
the door is shut!
the day never was
Never for me was this day
I will! Futile,
I will always be from nowhere
Without a face, without a history
from nowhere.”
Posted on May 30, 2004 by As'ad