FALEEHA HASSAN - THE WAGON

Faleeha Hassan
She is a poet, teacher, editor, writer born in Najaf, Iraq, in 1967, who now lives in the United States.
And she is the first woman who wrote poetry for children in Iraq.
She is leading poetic feminist movement in the holy city of Najaf
She got a master's degree in Arabic literature, and published sixteen collections of poetry in Arabic: Being a Girl, and a visit to the Museum of the shadows, five titles for my sea-friendly, although the later poems to the mother, Gardenia perfume, and a collection of poems for children, The Guardian dreams. It includes its Arabic prose Hazinia or lack of joy cells and freckles water (short story). ........Etc
Translated poems to (English, Turkmen, Bosevih, Indian, French, Italian, German, Kurdish, Spain and Albania) and has received awards from the linguists and translators Arab Society (AWB) and the Festival of creativity Najafi for 2012, as well as Naziq God Award angels, Al Mu'tamar Prize for Poetry, and the award short story of the martyr mihrab and institution. It is on the boards of Baniqya member, quarterly in Najaf. Rivers Echo (Echo Mesopotamia); Iraqis in Najaf and writers association. Iraqi Union and is a member of the literary women, and Sinonu (ie Swift) Association in Denmark, the Society of Poets beyond borders, and poets of the global community.
Her poems and her stories published in different  American magazines Such as  : (Philadelphia poets 22), (Harbinger Asylum ), (Brooklyn Rail april2016), (Screaminmamas),(The Galway Review)and (Words without Borders)
 
d.fh88@yahoo.com

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                                   The Wagon     
 

So Like a man inured to failure,
We climbed aboard the wagon,
And The driver, only the driver,
Began to listen as the cadence of our deprivation
—Thud. . .. Clunk. . . and so on-
-Infiltrated the wagon’s pores,
Starting with that first dirt road.
Our lives’ parasols disappointed us
When we shared sorrows
Without fancy titles,
while Reaping lethargy and frustration.
It wasn’t only the driver, or The horse, or Our heads
That looked meager;
The wagon’s outlook did too.
 
Translated by William M. Hutchins