The Wars Are Many

I have a spreadsheet where I keep my small but growing Arabic vocabulary, along with some simple sentences that use the words.

My wife Myriam Gurba was looking at the spreadsheet yesterday.

“Make a poem out of it,” I said.

This is what she made:

الدجاج لذيذ
الباب مفتوح
الحروب كثيرة

The chicken is tasty.

The door is open.

The wars are many.

This, says Myriam, is how it feels to be alive.