Childhood – Saleh souzani / poem
From the collected poems “Poem of the moments”
by: Saleh Souzani
Translate by: safoura hashemi chaleshtouri
.
Flowage…from your thoughts to…me
abundantly
to your/self
to
exception
up to poetry
poem of the moments
…me-we-are
/ how sour is this /
day as bitter to escape …
I do not know my/self
loving
I crawl
or a butterfly ignites me, candle
idle
next to an ant
you count the sky
no galaxy sees us…
galaxy…
me…
ant…
despite a salty night, Bawvan
of my eloping
I twist amorously
or a sour butterfly is burning me
in the rosary of this sunset
/ it is inevitable /
circular and enough every morning
bitter and salt
to the morning rice (I swear)
you are the hope, Bawvan!
what color the acrid taste of my teeth is
when I suck a cigarette at night or in the morning
instead of a cone you forbade me, Bawvan!
I’m garbled
as the wind
like the darkness of your nightly and…
the evangel of death in your eyes
it is far away
from your hands;
hope!
I do not see the bottom
pitchy
your shoes and
nothing else
/ as philosophy /
as winter when it was raining rice
/ and we did not have /
the wind was guilty, It did fall in love and huff
and me, a cigarette;
in my wind smoke blows
nights, bitter
days, caustic
/ pepper is the ugliest color /
when you are not, Bawvan!
blood is green and green
it is constantly pours
this inevitable sunset rosary
me
I’m neither green nor bitter
neither black nor rice
/ we did not have /
I was the childhood of Beigerd
I was weeping
believe!
I still do not know the color of Kurd
and its taste
in the desire of the taste
no cigarettes or smoke
wrap me in the wind you
I am colorless … colorless
as the science which is red blood
as the history which is colorless
from me
to my father
grandfather
and… my grandsire
/ I am a man, I will not speak about the mother /
and you, Bawvan!
from you to
my grandmother and
elder mother
we hang on your mother
at
poetry
which is a lot
to story-imagination
for
…both…
how sour the nights and
how inevitable the sunset
Circle Mandala Young
from your eyes, Bawvan
neither hope
from your hands
nor embrace
I do not see the bottom
only the shoes of childhood and
now older
and poetry … Bawvan! … you
I compose the poetry
as a letter to the wind which did not come
as red / which is now green /
as butterfly which ignite me candle
as death like flight / never asks love /
butterfly or me or you
along with the wind or thight-sleet… how blue
from your hair how white as rice
/ we did not have /
my hair, black and black as hearts…
believe, breath can be as poem
cover you by the death / alive-death /
as Shur in me
night
as inevitable, sunset/ morning
I fell in love, Bawvan, with your colors
that colorless smell… up to … eternity … me
at youth when the snow was white
as rice … or fruit / that we did not have /
to the brown of that moon / I swear /
and to the yellowish of this poem
poem of the moments
do not cry for me, Bawvan
neither you crying up to me too
garbled in
as the wind in color how it goes
paint me red that green
any color that is colorless in me
even imagination poem of the moments
in you
color… color
I’m your colorless in myself
breath
up to … eternity
I’m garbled, Bawvan as the soul of a Dada poem
as language
ant counts the galaxies next to you
and the sky, small…look!
ants of the galaxy
how colorless in your eyes
It’s also warm, my eyes
/ for you /
you who are here 2000
as Bawvan!
which brings the color in the embrace
It’s imagination or poem
/ philosophy and science and morning /
as the language that I’m garbled
I don’t know
in the color of cigarettes and wine and rebelings …
in the color of your hair or tooth
as rice
/ we did not have /
as clock, versicolor
/ we do not have /
T … i … m … e
Ah! Bawvan! I’m garbled I do not know any taste
as color
what color is our history?
our science! What color is it?
what color is this garbled love?
I don’t know the Kurds
… breaths…
bitter-salt or sour
I do not see the bottom
only shoes…
even dark
as milk
as rock
upon
my body
butterfly…
I’m garbled
garbled… forever
don’t afraid of the color of this crazy
this blond scream in my eyes
/ as history /
in my body
/ as the first white hair on my chest /
don’t afraid of the taste of this love-death
it’s blood, blood which is green as sun
not night / by the night /
of the form of this butterfly wing
/ I cut it out unknowing /
cry and
my colored finger from the butterfly wing
/ I wake up at nights to the love of the waves and at the mornings to the delight of a heart as a cup of the ocean! /
L…O..L
a poet without tome!
don’t afraid of meaning / that does not remain /
of friendship / that is good /
we did not have
of the sun which is warm
have it
from cold, summer
as pilaf … feast to … feast
as the smell of the feast baths / early bird /
here 2000
the star is near
how long our hands / Utopia /
the deepest height of though and
the most love
colors …
I’m colorless watercolor
up to pain and joy of alive-death
with love and breath…s
lower between the two legs
yawn… revolution
a colorful tremor and
of the kiss…
baby and
inevitability of sunset and …
I’m sob! believe
as cold as the sun
and as moon
warm and flame…
we froze we froze…
watery ice
from the pregnant cloud
/ Utopia /
the seared and gleed ground …
up to the rain
me you, wear on your head!
(dear of father, oh, the shine of my poetry!)
/ the most ridiculous power /
do you remember?
the world of colorful thoughts
with letter
story and
poetry
how long?
how short is the life of the earth and
why are we so far apart
a jump… a thousand jumps
how long? I don’t know
It’s a circle and the pen also walks by
/ how a poem /
as long as God’s life
I’m infected with poetry
as close as the star
to war and love and you… and
{my parental excuses of Savareh and Soran
for Pari whose eyes was burning me as green}
you are Bawvan for this poem
as language
as history and authority
I’m dangling
purl
purl
: to you to me that I am you
how long?
rain and not rain
the seared cloud and this pregnant ground
with the wings of the breaths
with the love of the lovelessness
colorless
I’m green-blue …
Or any color
no anymore howlong the colorless
no garbled I’m garbled up to … rock
you, Bawvan!
one violet night / The weight of this poem how much
dominates you, change it! /
it impressed my heart, Bawvan, impressed my heart, my heart / sing /
- If I go up the mountain to the river
/ how much does it cost? /
- How much is one of your kiss?
how much is the price of that flower and that poem
and this word, Narcissus
- a great gay for how many
L…u…ll
no longer I can’t a poem
I sell
as you that the territory and
manhood and …
/ I hate this manhood word /
and honor
and sometimes homeland and sky and star and…poem
- How much is
a kiss and two beers
a pep and giving a pep
two poems with soda
roundly justification
for myself
and homeland
and power
now I can’t any poems of moments
it’s over this emanation… up to get it again
up to the word again…
camaraderie
or frenzy
or travel… up to … it up …
sky and galaxy star
L…O…L
there is nothing more ridiculous than poetry and words
what better that you did not understand me
- to hell
what a pleasure hell is and … not stopped
up to … rain
to the regretful color
/ the authority silence /
I’m stronger than Bahman
destroyed me
to the devil!
poem of the moments is colorless logic
of my/self and
you Baw/van
up to rock
hanging on my body
it’s the cheapest word / man /
it’s enough enough!
you, Bawvan
make me green up to the rain
L…O…L
- How nice that you did not understand what I was saying
it’s circle and pen walks by too
the seventh “poem of the moments”.
( Saleh Souzani / Poem of the moments / 1997
Translate by: Safoura Hashemi Chaleshtouri )
- “Poem of the moments” is composed in ten mental parts. This section is the seventh part of the collected poems “poem of the moments” called Childhood.
- To translate from Persian text of Goharan Poetry Quarterly No. 15, p. 103 – 108, Spring 2007.
