طلوع عشق

Bahareh Rezaee is a young , well-known Iranian poet and critic. She has published three collections of poetry and her fourth collection is under publishing . During 70s and the years after, she has published various literary articles and criticisms in several published and online literary journals and newspapers. She is also a member of Iranian women prize juries (Khorshid). Her poetry has unique and peculiar attributes in terms of using images, themes and words. She is currently living in Tehran.

Dedicated to father Geppetto

With all love and hatred

“The wood that Pinocchio was carved from it is manhood” Benedetto Croce

With the sandpaper that you rubbed on my face

I was finished

Hello father!

I came to be you liar Pinocchio

You implanted my heart rightly

It worked like a clock

It fell in love double-quick

Even it fell in love with the kind angel

Who always mind me

Like the fantasies that didn’t have any addressee

Even in Hollywood

My story had begun father!

I sold my sweet fancies

To buy some diet sugar cubes for you

To let the diabetes desist you

And your eyes power dose not rise

Stop moping father!

It’s right that I never become a man

And my nose

Grows larger everyday

But I promise whenever you feel cold

I throw myself to a fireplace!

Translator: Azadeh Davachi

Inspection

By Bahare Rezaee

No!

He was not armed

He did not wear black and tight cloths

He did not have any flashlight

No!

I said No !

He did not even cover his face

I had closed all the doors

He came through the window

He sat in front of a bed’s brim

Even he smiled at me a bit

And once he attempted to sympathize

With 9th Beethoven’s symphony

It was not suitable lullaby

He was right…

He stood up

He quaffed remnants of my coffee

He turned on his walkman

I thought he wanted to record my dreams

And me who became detective

In the last pages of James Bond novel

Even I felt sleepy slightly

Translator: Azadeh Davachi

A slice of Leila
Kooh

By Bahareh Rezaee

I was not Marco Polo

But the China wall

Had remained on my
hands

Venice was not my
homeland

But I was without any
harbor

And no ship anchor…

It was in Langeroud

“Rah Poshteh”

They were making a dam

I was not become
mother

But you hold the
corner of my Chador

And you put a bomb in
my mind

From those bombs

That you never wear it
as bracelets

And I fortify behind a
nuclear tractor

To protect my self

No!

It’s not to be
mistaken

There is no war

I just was searching a
dustbin

For the nuclear
rubbishes

I even went to the
front of a mine!

In a very desolated
land

Translator : Azadeh Davachi