Somaye Dehban, Iran
Where Have I Been? Where Are We Going?
Rehab
My whole existence is a token of darkness,
This takes you constantly
To the dawn of eternal blossoming and burgeoning.
Me sigh you in this token, sigh!
Me graft you, in this token, onto the tree, the water and the fire
Life is perhaps the obstructed instant
That my sight devastates itself in the gleam of your eyes
And there is a sense in this devastation
That I will merge with the perception of the moon and the darkness.
In a room, as big as a loneliness,
My compassion, as big as a love,
Is reviewing its plain excuses for happiness:
The beautiful withering of flowers in a vase;
The sapling that you planted in our garden;
The melody of canaries, which goes as far as the edge of the window;
Ah!
Is this my share?
Is this my share: a sky that hanging a curtain will take it away from me?
Longer than this, ohyes
Longer than this, you can keep the silence:
You can for hours and hours,
With a gaze like a constant dummys gaze,
Gaze at the smoke of a cigar,
Gaze at the shape of a cup,
You can stand still and keep the silence
Beside the scene, but blind, but deaf
You can scream,
You can scream with a dreadful fake, with a dreadful phony voice
I LIKE IT
You can be like a wound doll,
Look at your world with two glassy eyes
You can stay in a baized box
Filled with straw, sleep for years with tulle and sequin
You can scream with every dissolute touch and say:
Oh, I am so lucky.
Me telling about the farthest point of the night,
Me telling about the farthest point of the darkness,
The farthest point of the night
Walking towards my home, darling?
Bring me light, and a hatch
Which through that I can look at the crowd of LUCKY alley
Me review this luckiness oddly
Me addicted to my desperation.
Behind this window, the night is shivering
And the earth has stopped turning
Behind this window, an un-known
Concerns about you and me
And this is me,
A woman, alone
At the sill of a cold season,
At the sill of perception of the contaminated existence of the world,
And the plain but gloomy desperation of the sky.
But, why should I stop?
The cooperation of leader alphabets is absurd.
The cooperation of leader alphabets
Will not save the humble reflection
A mortal bird gave me a maxim to memorize the flight
Memorize the flight, a bird is mortal
And the voice, the voice,
The voice alone is immortal.
And every body know
Every body know
That you and me passed that grim-cold hatch
And we saw the garden
And from that untouchable playful twig
We picked the apple
And every body fear
Every body fear but you and me
Grafted onto the light, the water and the reflection
And not feared
As this is not a feeble graft of two names
This is not a coincidence on an old paper
This is my prosperous tress in the wind
With your picturesque kisses
And we questioned:
What should be done?
We reached the silence of phoenixes
We found the truth in the garden
And we found the immortality in an eternity
Where the two suns gazed at each other
This is not a fearful whisper in the darkness
It is the light and the open windows
And the fresh air:
I shall salute the sun again
I shall salute the brook flowing in me
I shall salute the clouds carrying my thoughts
I shall salute my mother, living in the mirror
And reflects my old age.
I shall salute the sun again.
