Over the following seven pages you will read the words of Iraqi Poet Gulala Nouri
The Decimal Fractions of The Soul
For friends who have gone farthest in exile
By
Gulala Nouri
” You won’t die for me?!” He says
….You are right
If I die for you
I will be drawn from you as snows falling gently
while embracing the rain.
I know, you will still appear in several names…
But my soul will know you from the sound of your fingers ticking on the window. .
To die for love is a more tempting idea!
Than shot to death by hatred
Or intentional friendly fire.
I cannot die for you,
The history inadvertently says (Death is only one cup)
The decimal fractions have divided my soul
That I cannot die just once, for I have a long list which contains:
The river banks which turn to unknown tombs,
My suicide on heaven’s door, which makes a space for God
to see Iraq and infuse coldness….
And give us rest to change the palls of the past three decades
And a decimal: for someone who is stuck in Baghdad, and wants to live for me.
I will not die for you
I will keep a decimal for you alive,
Fearing that our Iraqi species is going to be extinct.
Those spectra hate colors, rape the streets, and give the dead births.
And because I am pregnant with cemeteries
I will not be able to find a grave for my own body,
so where will you put the rose?
And are you sure that you will not be hit by a ricochet by the time you read my tombstone?
So let your decimal live.
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