My Last Thoughts about Iraq

About the Book

In Baghdad, my memories were sketched in a shadow of pain. Who is going to play the guitar? Who is going to sing? Where am I? Like a migrating bird, will return home. My voice is worn out from calling out for Iraq.

Oh, Iraq! Once, you were Sumerian or from Uruk, in an era that knew no history. You were Babylonian in a period that knew no love! Ishtar, your soothing eyes are my harbor, my passport to the haven is the window of my prison.

Ishtar, I was killed once by a flood, and a million times by a creature called man. I was killed by a nation, by many nations. You are in America, look over the sky! There is a very tiny star that shines over the village of Tin. Smile for the birds that fly over tin, smile when dreams and secrets remain in that tiny village. Smile, you are an American born in Iraq.

About the Author

Paul Batou, a native Iraqi artist, received a degree in pharmacy in 1982 from the University of Baghdad. While in school, Paul worked and was inspired by many teachers and artists studying at the University. In 1980, he had his first art show in Baghdad. During his years spent in Baghdad, Paul placed his art in several galleries, learned to play the guitar, and was forced into service during the Iraq-Iran war as a medic. In 1989, he fled Iraq with his family and moved to Los Angeles. In the United States, Paul continues to create art and write poems that inspire all those close to him. As a father, an uncle, an artist, and a pharmacist, Paul has achieved the admiration and respect of all those around him.