Abd al Wahhab Al-Bayati, 'The Fugitive'

[duathir]

The Fugitive

I dreamt I was a fugitive
Hiding in a forest.
The wolves in a distant country
Hounded me through black deserts and over rough hills.
My dear, our separation was torture.
I dreamt I was without a home,
Dying in an unknown city,
Dying alone, my love, without a home.

By Abd al Wahhab Al-Bayati