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I will go to place faraway
Where nobody there knows me
A place
Where the streets be peculiar
No house,
No room
No bed
No mobile phone
No internet
Until no gravel of inconsistent speeches
Replays the events of my lost years.
I will go to a place
Where no human has arrived to
There were:
I am not a woman
I am not a girl
I am not a mother of anybody,
Where no one owns me.
Even if the deluge starts
I don’t have to get a branch of olive
And bring the news of land to anybody.
There will be a day were I will escape from here
Follow searching in all cities
The fate of the lost selves
So I would forget that I:
A day
A month
A year
An age
Was with you.
I then clearly enter the complexity of myself
And tremble in your crowd.
Just a day prior to the ruin
I leave here and you all
And to forget
A day I have
City after city
Searched for a memory
Those memories that I
Just like a pigeon
Hiding from the gazing eyes
And made a nest of a dream for me.
I will go to death’s home
And forget that one day I did love you
That I had strange feelings about your weird people
That I was a companion of your joy and melancholy
That I have been on your dining tables
That I had coffees at your cafes
That I had a walk with your evenings
And solved the dim equation
Of your lives
And naively raised the two hands of your prayers
By a grave of a martyr of my country.
One day I will pack up
And gather my footstep and through them
To the rubbish bin.
The rubbish bin of a country that you all are right
Except me!
One day just as a cat in front of front yard door
Of our first house
I will leave the house.
Invite a dream to dine with
Even though I know that no one would come
One day I will forget
That I was a human for a faraway human
I have cried faraway from here
Just opposite the broken windows of speaking
I have played a lute of waiting
Inside a spiritless hospitals
Laying down on my back
With a dry mouth
With a nurse watching me
One day
Were one day exactly is left to die
Were nearly 24 centuries were left
Before the tribes arrive to the earth
A century after the Mongols
A long time after the disappearance of the bones of
The Neanderthal
Ten years after the devastation Hitler has left
A deluge after the resurrection of the Jews
Inside my wrist’s watch
Just now one day is left to die.
One full day is left to die
And I have done nothing
I have not pack up my desires
I have not released my kids like birds
I have not leaded the nurses to the enemy’s Iva truck
I have not wiped a cold forehead of a martyr
Just like a last touch between the numb nerves of existence
And a flooding blood of inexistence
Only one day is left to die
And I am still exhausted in my bed in the Bazaar
Dreaming of naked and cheep things.
One has left to die
And I am still got not used to the air of these regions
I am not like a coward poet
I do not water the gardens in the mornings
I do not distribute faithfulness to my neighbours
I cannot reach the moon
A travelling star flees from a sphere of my view
I, irrigate the flowers by oil instead of water
I tear apart my memories just like a card that had
My first zero mark
When I was a student
I did not lie down at night under the moonlight
And I did not dream about the travelling star
Passing by my place
So let the world become a shadow
Let the cloud to grab the neck of the sky
Allow the sun not to wake up
And let the darkness cover my place
At the end I will re-enter language
Without lexicons
What is dimmer than darkness?
Translated by Abbas Boskani