Do not lose the fish’s identity Captain!
by: Yunes Razayi
Translator: Moslem Ahmadi
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The bed is brimming with the news of the scarce herons
Which by accident perch on the captain’s hat
The bed is lacking a boat in love
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The sea knows no boundary as well till it comes back to the horizon of your hands…
Which are deep, deep with wounds
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Coo and grunt and hopefully a wall in the tradition of the fish… till the occasion of tumbling down
Sing, sing of a lost identity…till the last prayers of the rain
Drizzling drops… with having killed
The ugly flowers
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Captain! Please do not seek a gigantic fish
In the streams of our streets.
Let “here” be the bed to those walls
That die around an old boatman…
On the other side of the bars he is busy with embroidery of a geographical map.
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In the streams of your hands I am a fish in exile
Your boat which is my destiny too
In the borders of nothing
And your oars faster than the wings of a heron
That wanders about in a thirsty poem.
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The island is filled with the future of your eyes…
With two fish and a bitter perspective
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The island not a far land… from a shy octopus
Whose forts high and higher… standing witness over my poems
Whose legs is the sleeping bed of a stranger boatman in you
Who goes on a blood strike
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Captain pardon me for savagery
Pardon me for the dream of the fish
For that poem also that is a hungry aquarium.
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Till tomorrow I take a swim in your eye.
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I redraw another version of the sea
Another one also of the octopus that loses our time kindly.
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I will find another boulevard of time
And another one as well called “trout fishing in books”
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Do not entrust yourself to a wave
That knows the a to z of the tree
And no trust in America either… whose boats are filled with the anxiety of the fish
Filled with the flags of the pirates… drunk pirates
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Be any woman of that poem! Who is my mother
A new version of wound also
Following my father… who knows the reds
For instance if his boat had been lost in the pursuit of a jellyfish
Lost in a wolf…not with the waves of his body… which is a night
With the sirens of his eyes that for ever
“Declare to me the state of emergency”
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Dear listeners the voice you hear now
Declares the state of dark
Remind yourselves of the lighthouse
The Titanic alongside the dance of violin
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Play the role of a fish… tamed by disaster.
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On the rocks of my bone
Engrave a memorial… captain.
One at a time the bed gets crowded with crows
And the news in the wind… in the circulation of birds…
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Pull the anchor off of the boat of nothing’s frame
Face the herons
Your eye knows the threat of the fish.
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Entrust your hands to the wound of the street
I worry about you and the walls of tomorrow.
Heart panting after a man on the other side of the prison bars
Counting the rosary beads of the octopus.
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Dear listeners! The poem you are reading now
Declares the state of red
As of yesterday…
Light a cigarette and up to the streets, fishlike
Seek a new bed for the rain.