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from the November 2010 issue

Our City

This city of ours is strange:
In the nights
It whispers as we walk its streets
It calls us, shows its wounds
Like secrets of a heart

Windows closed
Alleys silent
Run-down walls
Doors sealed
In its houses, corpses have stayed for years

Translation of "Apna Shahr." Translation copyright 2010 by M.A.R. Habib. All rights reserved.

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