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My words are scattered and need gathering. I see my river and the
date palms and I remember the smell of Masgouf (a fish from the Tigris
river
eaten by Baghdadis), and the cafés full of elderly and young
people playing dominoes and backgammon. Does this still exist or is
it gone
forever? This is what I am reminded of by this beautiful plate
HENRIT AL SHABIBI, born in
1950, left Iraq in the 1970’s
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