His roots were an aristocratic Hashemite from the Arabian Peninsula, and in the countries of India, his ancestors ruled a significant portion of it, although there was a conflict with the British, the family was exiled to Iraq, and to Baghdad. , in the hands of a German midwife, he looked at the world. How this will disturb the Arab leaders, the perpetrators, and among them those who are not afraid to snatch the snare of the people, indulge in suspicions and suspicions and be brutally killed.
He grew shy and moved away from a large house with over 30 rooms. Despite the rumors of culture, literature and art that resonate around this palace, and despite a family where mother, father, years, uncles and grandfathers stood between a poet and a man with talent in drawing or playing a musical instrument such as the piano or the lute, he remained alone until his participation in the leftist movement of the struggle for a decent human life.In the first half of the last century, the power of feudalism was motivated him against the free, so he freed himself of what he was.
And the authorities had to find him, how much they tortured him, and how many years of imprisonment he knew, and he dug a tunnel with three comrades who were imprisoned with him – twenty meters – three meters deep.
And tenderness accompanied him even as he held a weapon in his hands.
Thus, the descendant of an aristocratic family is troubled in life, and he is involved in it.
And because he was a message of cruelty from the cruel, and because he was a printed poet, and because he was a true knight, he raised the flag of poetry from the moment of the first encounter, shouting at the classical and colloquial of the love and dignity for the oppressed and lightning for all the harlots at night.
You see in his poems the splendor of love, and you see in his poems the hope for a free homeland, and you see how he sang about the dreams of a happy man, and he chose the worst and most disgusting words from the vocabulary. The Arabs destroy idols.
She spent decades of her life in exile from her homeland, from her first love, looking for a real exit to return to, and finally back to her, and massive return only comforted her to be near eternity in the land of Iraq.
Our generations grew up in the name of Muzaffar, he was from the country of Sumer, from the countries of Assyria and Babylon, from Baghdad, the caliphate and the light in everything from the ocean to the gulf. How commendable, whoever they are, are those-albeit too late-who stopped at Baghdad International Airport to receive their honorary body in a truly solemn and solemn ceremony, attended by cultural figures and trailblazers from all sects.
Goodbye, tenderness, anger of freedom, goodbye, fountain of love, goodbye, flaming words in the face of limit and limitation.
You, poet, have eternity, and your majesty shares our consolation.
Source: Al-Akhbar
