Beautiful Poem

I was working on a translation on Pablo Neruda's Seashell Collection, and I had to find the English title of his book, Confieso que he vivido. Memorias. And I found this, a beautiful, beautiful poem by an Iraqi poet named Al-Azzawi.

I Confess That I Have Lived My Life

I confess that I have lived my life.
I tasted so many things and forgot thousands more.
I loved women. I forgot to count how many cried over me.
I found friends for good times and friends for bad ones.
I lived among forgotten victims
and learned with my skin the whips of executioners in prison cells.
I stood before unjust courts, accused of blind love.
I wandered from desert to desert and set up my tent in fairyland.
I let my horse drink from the waters of Al-Kawthar*
I slept among thieves on the shores of the Tigris
and sometimes lived in the castles of kings.
I traveled to cities swimming in darkness.
I sat in the sun and walked through snow,
changed one land with another,
one pair of shoes with another.
I burned so many bridges behind me
and sailed on seas that could never be crossed.
In a time of drought, I sowed seeds in the valley of friends.
In darkness, I lit thousands of candles.
Under the waking moon, I sighed like an old man in love
and wandered between continents.
How many times have I built paper palaces in my dreams?
How many times have I swapped reality for illusion?
I have told the truth and I have also lied.
I have doubted a little and I have believed a little.
I have smoked all brands of cigarettes,
drank in bars the best vintage wines
and written the poems of my life.
I have laughed so much in this world.
I have cried so much in this world.
I have passed by like a light flashing in the night.
I have been here and I have seen.
I have stayed and I have left.
I confess that I have lived my life.

*a river in Paradise

by Fadhil Al-Azzawi