|
|
Mohammad Hossein Abedi
Poems
Iran
|
Translated to English by Manavaz Alexadrian
These Days
Believe me sorcery, spells and the astrolabe is not my business
nevertheless I know that he who wants to take n augury,
flaps a page in the book backward,
neither a greeting nor even a glance
it seems that today is not the turn of our love-play
life is short and our hands too
this is why I fill everywhere in ... with my breath
(I insert ... instead of your name so that I will prevent shame to repeat in your face).
He flaps through a page in the book:
I know, these days that are passing you are preparing yourself for a journey and
you don't know that these days that pass are the journey of my life.
A Wound Formed Only of Three Letters
Neither a wave stirs the sea
nor a tear gushes from the eye
your words burns my birth
amid nocturnal flames.
Only death survives from life
and hospital stairs and corridors
only a wound formed only of three letters
this wound has a thousand things to tell
words that will not be washed away from my chest.
The sea also soars up and down
the darling and love
are no more words made of three letters
this is a wound of a thousand words and
your words burn my birth amid flames of wound.
|
