Other writers
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Saleh Souzani translated by: Safoura Hashemi «Death comes and the end for all» is notYou tried to become a fish… a mytheous fishWhat a fanfare my city that is you… calm… c.a.l.m… to sleepThe knot was the wind crawling romantically… otherwiseWhat is the difference of killing and genocide?Let the wind carry her on its hands……
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Mohammad MoafaqiTranslate by Ata Miraki The soldier who once tried to kill himselfreturned from the battlefieldto became a postman thenalways brought me your lettersthe postman one day tried to kill himselfsmelled so much of your handsto became a luckless poetto brought the word “you” into poetryfor the first time The poet who once wanted to…
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By: Parwiz Zabihgholami Translator: Daliya Raouf . At first, I was nonexistent. A formless dress In the closet of an anfal victim man. neighbours say: in the grave where you were found There, Just the head of a poet, hands of a laborer, and Foot of a living soldier Now I exist Perhaps I am…
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Youssef Ezzedine Translated by: Aram Jaff If I were existed Maybe behind the meaningless Metals Meaningless of humans’ dance Meaningless of tens of non-functioning prepositions Hundreds of light words If I were a weak sentence Weak such as the fantasy’s birds In the ashes of fireplaces Weightless such as feather is taken by wind Like…
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By: Van Sherzad Translator: Daliya Raouf I wonder, how wouldThe circle of your black and white dreamsOn your vivid imaginative mind dances, without me.I wonder how wouldYour poetic language grieves on your daily solace page.On my absent days!I know what are you going through.I know you quarrel with all your suitors,I know you clench your…
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Writer: Yusif Mariwany Translater: Shayan sofisultani . A winters night, I slither into my bed pulling the blanket on myself. I remember that winter night from two years ago I was asleep in my room, that night Massud was sleeping under the window to my left, putting my hands behind my pillow ( it’s a…
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Saleh SouzaniTranslate by: Safoura Hashemi Chaleshtouri . What do I do with snake and scorpion… looking for a versicolor flower…I’m straggler… my subject is the harmony of your colors/what does it look like in the mornwhen the sun swings on herhow it revolves?amorist moonhow he crawls in her reds…and it rises to your greens…what about…
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Writer: Fawzia Sultanbagi Translator: Shayan Sofisultani . The last time I was on a train, it was a cool summer evening. Before that, the fortune-teller had told me, “Never travel during the evening!”. I laughed and said, “If only I have the chance to travel, it doesn’t matter even if it’s after midnight, I don’t…
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Writer: Jegr BakhtyarTranslator: Shayan Sofisultani . (A hungry dog hides a bone underground) 1. I’m waiting in front of the mirror. Woof Woof. opening my mouth wide, looking at my teeth. running my fingers on my teeth. bringing my tongue out. ha ha ha Woof Woof. I touch the leash that is on my neck.…
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by: Soran Mohammed . Sulphur Is waiting to explode- Let the Sulphur sleep, Let rivers Travel abroad in whiteness To the breast’s source. Expel the dark spirit shadow From the mind Until the streams Know the way for themselves, And stones Change chatter to silence- So the earth May hear stones breathing. . When the…