Ali Abdolrezaei
Story
translated by Abol Froushan
A sky was enough to make rain.
A sunlight – to make a city awkward
Summer like a head-down elephant with a long trunk was lifting the day
the hand of night lost its quiet like a lieutenant divorced of his platoon
from the edge of my humming voice that lived on the edge of a hamlet of voices
threw rips of Buddha’s laughter which my mouth ripped in Lhasa
so to have a think of my being which in Persian has copious meaning
under the lazy moonlight which showed up as daylight to cry a little
A sea was enough for drowning
a snare for the harpooned whale that I would be
The world like an antique rug stuck in a corner
in a piazza with a vast dizziness that was empty
a woman that in a quiet cloud took habitat
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