I don’t Care How or Where I Die
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06 July 2018
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|| Hussein Habasch ||

 

He is a poet from AFRIN, KURDISTAN, lives in Bonn-Germany. Born in 1970. He writes in Kurdish and Arabic.Some of his poems were translated to many languages such as; English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Turkish, Persian, Albanian, Uzbek, Russian and Romanian. A selection of his poems have been published in more than an international poetic anthology. He wrote these books: Drowning in Roses/ Azmina Publishing House, Amman, and Alwah Publishing House, Madrid 2002. Fugitives across Ivros River/ Sanabel Publishing House, Cairo 2004. Higher than Desire and more Delicious than the Gazelle's Flank / Alwah Publishing House, Madrid 2007. Delusions to Salim Barakat/ Alzaman Publishing House, Damascus 2009. A flying Angel (Texts about Syrian children) Moment Publishing House, London 2013. A flying Angel (Texts about Syrian children) in English, Bogdani Publishing House 2015. No pasarán, in Spanish, the book published by the International Poetry Festival in Puerto Rico 2016. Copaci Cu Chef, in Romanian/ Ars Longa Publishing House, Bucharest 2017. Dos Árboles, in Spanish, the book published by the International Poetry Festival in El Salvador 2017. Tiempos de Guerra, in Spanish, the book published by the International Poetry Festival in Costa Rica.Participated Festivals: He participated in many international festivals of poetry, for example in Colombia, Nicaragua, France, Puerto Rico, Mexico, Germany, Romania, Lithuaia, Morocco, Ecuador, El Salvador, Kosovo, Costa Rica, Bulgaria.

 

 

I don’t Care How or Where I Die

By Hussein Habasch

 

I rest my head on the rock of the oblivion!
Like a chorus I echo the saddest song as follow:
I don’t care if die poor,
or poorer than the poorest persons of the world
my two children are eating apple,
and chewing on pomegranate seeds
This is the most important.

I don’t care if I die,
then I woke up walking alone in my funeral.
I do not care if I never wake up
My Two children are whispering in joy and happiness
as if they were two lovers
and this is the most Important!

Sargon Bolus had passed away in Berlin alone
as he always alone,
Totter in the brink of death as if he was a drunken Angel
he was sick!

As a forgotten Prince,
Kamal Seibty died in a sofa in his home in Holland,

Ageel Ali had passed away in a sidewalk,
as if he was formed to be the crown of all the homeless.

Mahmoud Albreekan was killed by a knife of a thief,
he was a lighthouse guiding the pirates to his penniless pocket

Then why should I care if I die in a bar, ballroom,
cabaret or in a whore’s arms in a brothel!
My two children are eating French fries with mayonnaise.
And this is the most important.

I don’t care if I will die drowned, incinerated, strangled, butchered
Or committed suicide by carbon monoxide like my sister Sylvia Plath!
I do not care if I will be put to death in my birthday
like my brother Delshad Meruwani the strange angel of Kurdistan!

I don’t care if I will die hungry, imprison or under the wheels of a reckless train Like my spiritual twin Attila József.
I don’t care if I would be murdered by the hands of a mobs like Lorca
Or hanged like Hassan Mutlak, Dabada of Baghdad.
More importantly, my two babies are okay!
And I write simple farewell love poems
Inspired by the flirtation of the waitresses
and the beautiful young girls, passing in front of the cafe

My two children are playing
My daughter combing her Barbie’s hair
And my son is riding his tiny motorbike
This is the most important.

I don’t care if I will be stabbed by a treacherous knife
or by a dose of venom like my uncle Socrates.
I don’t care if my death would occur in Athens, Berlin, Beirut, Damascus, London, Madrid or beautiful Washington!!
Cities are similar
Death is a wanderer dog, prowling along the skylines!
My children are rolling a ball -like planet, and seem fantastic
This is the most important.

I don’t care if I die homeless in exile, achy, sad or drunk
Or bitten by friends’ tusks like most of the poets
It is important that in this moment I’m listening to Maria Callas
Deep down my inner self is moisten by her melodious voice!

And my two children slept innocently amazing
This is the most important.

I don’t care if I stutter with drivelling,
or sailing the madness swirl
Like my companion Cioran
Roaming the night from the insomnia,
Putting my fate in hands of the coldness and the delirium

My two children smiling in theirs sleep,
dreaming, perhaps about birds or butterflies
this is the most important.

I don’t care if I live or die!
No different!

Death is the departure of the soul,
I lost my soul a long time ago
in the forests of the oblivion.
Why should I care now!
I don’t Care!

 

Translated by Solara Sabah

 

 

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