Poetry

A Parisian Night

Sought to trace
White Russian Princess’
Footsteps,
In taxi-stand on Rue d’ Bac where
White-guard general stood to salute her smile.

In tunnels of the Metro-underground
I fell behind the fast-paced
Steps,
Mesmerized by the akordeon player’s
Moroccan songs - empty, my heart >>>

گر رسم شود که مست گیرند

گر رسم شود که مست گیرند
در شهر هر آنچه هست گیرند
گویند ‌ز امام و رای ملت
والله که امام دست گیرند
گر سخت بگیری از مهندس
هر آنچه مهندس است گیرند >>>

I Resort to Cooking

Some milk, as white as his honesty
A dash of salt
His sense of humor and
How he was so witty
A cup of honor and
a spoon of integrity
To make the cake rise
To the occasion of his memory
>>>

ازدواج کیکاوس و سودابه

چون بیامد آن پریچهره عیان  
چشم یاقوت و کمانش ابروان

مُشک گیسو و قدش سرو سهی  
خوش خرام و با وقار و فرهی

کاوس کی محو آن دردانه شد    
خسته و مجروح آن فرزانه شد >>>

ازین شب های ناباور

من آن صبحم که ناگاهان چو آتش در شب افتادم
بیا ای چشم روشن بین که خورشیدی عجب زادم

ز هر چاک گریبانم چراغی تازه می تابد
که در پیراهن خود آذرخش آسا درافتادم

چو از هر ذره ی من آفتابی نو به چرخ آمد
چه باک از آتش دوران که خواهد داد بر بادم >>>

The Empty Place of Eddie

Today the rain washes your blood
And wipes it from the pavement
There remains only your sunny smile,
Your tall baseball bat
Leaning against the wall,
And your backpack full of books
Waiting for your shoulders >>>

Satanic Faces of Islam

I do not conform – I do not bend.
I am the infidel,
the apostate,
the scum of this earth.
The brothers take pride in kicking me,
in punching my face.
They enjoy denying my pain.
Dragging my bound hands,
smashing my blinded head >>>

خشم

تو به من میگویی
ارزش من نصف تو است، ملا.
من به تو میگویم
هستی تو مال زن است، ملا.
تو به من میگویی
تاب تنم فتنۀ شهر و دمن است، ملا. >>>

غزل کور مادر زاد

چه فرق بین من و بین کور مادر زاد
که روی ماه تو دیدن نباشدم آزاد
مرا نیاز به این دیدگان روشن نیست
که چشم بسته به پای تو می‌توان افتاد
بگیر جان من‌ ای بهترین بهانه عمر
که بی‌ تو یک نفس از عمر هم حرامم باد >>>

Dream number one

Contrary to the general malaise
last night, on my ornate roof,
I fell asleep looking out to the smog
that hides this monster

that eats mud and lives
that stretches out from the mountain
its bony fingers under the asphalt
propelling cars ever farther.
>>>

Yin and Yang

WE are not a people of pure virtue
THEY are not a people of pure hate
We exist together yin and yang-like
Wedded to our common human fate.

Can the mirror’s image be avoided…
Should our Other ever be denied?
There is no escaping from our knowing
Of the battles being waged inside >>>

Yeki bood, Yeki nabood

I put on my shoes and run downstairs,
all the while wondering,
Just how large will the protests will be today,
as they grow and shrink from evening to evening,
like some sort of new weather phenomenon
that has settled on the corner of Wilshire and Veteran,
unable to pass over the tall white building just behind >>>

راهرو

امروز
قرنی­ست از آن
امروز مو‌هایم
با برف‌ها هم­نشینند
لیک هنوز
تمام سلول‌هایم سر به دیوار می‌کوبند
با آن یاد‌ها
آن فریاد‌ها >>>

Heart aches for peace

This wretched heart of glass
Aches with each beat each pulse
Enfolded in pure silk net
The silk net is tight and strong
Won’t tear, expand or let go
Slowly squeezing the breath
Out of this heart that aches >>>

Much unconsidered

A much unconsidered thought: “in this rotten land,
What can captives do, with shackles of confinement?”
To run with shackles, that’s a skillful deed,
Else the ball runs freely on the princes’ field.
Many such imprisoned, like the golden Sun,
Have laughed down on comedy of these showmen >>>