Hamid Nazarkhah Alisaraei (Adonis Dodestani), poem
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Poems by Hamid Nazarkhah Alisaraei (Adonis Dodestani) – Iran
(1)
Friend!
At the foot of the gallows,
I weave my patience,
And at night,
I weep for the dance
Of the blood of wounded fish.
(2)
I sit watching the raspberry fields
In a white shirt...
My bloody hands
Become poems without dots
At the foot of my coffin.
(3)
At night,
I bury the bodies of unidentified words
In my chest.
A silent scream
Sighs
For my sorrow.
(4)
My body smells of damp gunpowder.
Beneath the laughter after the death of the sun,
I saw the booted words
Beneath the invisible rains,
How they trample
My beliefs.
(5)
Red, red,
Like pomegranate seeds,
Flowing through the heart of the roads...
And the poems dressed in black
In the sorrow of the bodies...
I see no flag in my hand.
I recite Al-Fatiha
At my own grave.
(6)
With my mother's tears,
The cold, dark words
Sprout
At the end
Of my last breaths.
(7)
My dreams are the narration of history,
Where the homeland of my poems
Became one body from thousands of bodies...
Death sings
The song of my poem
In the ear of the street.
(8)
Tell my mother:
There is no longer any need to sew a shroud.
I love these second-hand clothes.
When you turn the pages of my poetry book,
You will see my footprints,
Still breathing
In search of peace.
(9)
For peace,
I hold neither an olive branch
Nor a white cloth...
Neither was my father a politician,
Nor was my mother an ambassador of peace.
My childhood
Is in search of freedom.
