For Mahi | Saleh Souzani | Poetry
Saleh Souzani
translated by: Safoura Hashemi
«Death comes and the end for all» is not
You tried to become a fish… a mytheous fish
What a fanfare my city that is you… calm… c.a.l.m… to sleep
The knot was the wind crawling romantically… otherwise
What is the difference of killing and genocide?
Let the wind carry her on its hands… up to the call
We become still poetry
By the letters of d.e.a.t.h
When you are not… Zhin… naaa
«Blood is viridescent, viridescent…
keep pouring and this compelled rosery is inevitable and
is excited… when we carried the night in the day. »
You were the only one who so jumped up to the Bing Bang
The night couldn’t hold you… even in the warp by warp of the poetry
You were so enormous… that you didn’t go upper
Me and the text that could not conquer you
When is mirthless raven? Up to your hair yes your hair yes your hair your hair
Don’t squander away the honor of the night
«Spread your hair in the breeze» to be blown freedom
«Swing the ringlet» to go every wind
We were not with the wind
We didn’t go frenzied
The wind took them away and they gone off
They set us on fire and we abided
Ever since you flew
Our poetries have been voyaging by hullabaloo
Many of them are arrested
The rest are the targets of the lines of buckshot… buckshot… buckshot…
There is no news of some of our texts and they will not return
The poetry of one of my angry friends
because of the hair of her verses
was burned alive
And today I heard Diwan after Diwan of angry poetry
In the sky of cities
throw stones
Against guns… batons… buckshot buckshot buckshot
Poetry is free like you
Don’t try conquer it
«The fiction of the tiny turbulent fish and …
heinous black crow …
The fiction of the frivolous lion and the righteous king!!
The nigritude of your height
are not excited by the scarlet of this poetry. »
This is not the same «Žižek» is the same and more
Rise again, girl of text… son of poetry
Countless contexts waiting for you…
because of you
from being to becoming
existence existence existence
«Sheath the upraised swords… poetry defeats them
The dew decays them
The poetry blows Aphrodite’s stature and
They are Persephone against her. »
So, Viva the rebel because of you!
/If poetry and revolution, like the rainbow of your braided hair, unite in the structure of the flight of love, I am sure, your galactic name and «Viva the rebel because of you» will be her best motto. /
«I swear by your night hair…
Swear by «Take the moon in your mouth»
Where are you sitting in Evin, watching the poetry of the star? »
Only… only poetry, revolution and mythos are right
that you are now!
«Life like this, how beauteous;
Melting the ablaze candle on the black background of the night…
Such is the life of the stars. »
I also see her as much as the moon, the sun, the stars… and nothing
Don’t… Don’t… Don’t… We are fire
We are a flame… flame… flame… the sun… up tooo
Our love for nation
We bring to the ground
Wow, wow, from all these cities
which are now singing about you
We are in love up to poetry that buckshot by buckshot
They are wet with blood… by the unjustifiable hand of the evil demon
The demon of gas and the smell of weapons… up to and up to its rotten
Our wing from letters to words…
The line is said to fly
He tells his malodorous morgue to shoot… shout…
«Which and where is the e-mail that can hear the breath… our breath… without the fire of the flames…
What site can hear the breath of my poetry and not explode
Which CD will release the Nazanin’s song without me. »
Apprehension is full of me
And I have been targeted by all kinds of buckshot…
Oh sweetie! my love era is long
It is the myth of a bird that flew from the land of fiction
The fable of an unnumbered city
Your hair is disturbed and fallen on your stature
Look at this dog, how fierce and uncollared it is
Intelligible has not fallen on the darkness of the truth
Let it be destroyed… because its head is full of hats
Lol… Lol… Lol…
A day will come when he will fall to the ground
How far we burn forward
that our power is taller than burning flower
With all its musical gardens
Our failure is a sapling
it will not wither with the fire of your lies
it dances in the power of the stones
A buckshot is accompanied by the scream of its wounds
A child is in the pain of persecution
How far forward!! do you destroy?
To lose weapons and stupidity
And to hang my poetry on your long hair
Fight for the wind
And our poetries for rights
Do you think they can kill us without note?
O! Zhin… naaa
Oath to life
Up to the eyes of the girls of the whole city
Up to the buckshot inside all of them and our bodies
Up to the poetry to the eternity for from Diwan to Diwan
I sent it… embrace it… don’t be afraid, publish it… don’t be afraid!
- This poem is dedicated to Mahi, Because I am confident that no text can even be as extent as your name.
• The texts in quotation marks are taken from the poems of the past years.
