Other writers

  • It was Foggy

    by: Bahar hoseini translator: Kawa qadimi . It was Foggy,every placewould kill an ending andwould created starting,I reached to a sea…full of sank light,and fluttering,then I terned back to my path,this time,ending was starting andstarting was ending…what an incapable life…when both of your ways are foggy…

  • 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…

  • Falling Of Letters

    by: Soran Mohammed . Sentences are not in conjunction beginnings and endings mixed like the Bohemian story of a refugee- without home, without friends. . The fortune teller said:  look to the future,  Tuesday is your lucky day. The poet said:  Those nights – when you recognised the villages by the barking and the smoking…

  • The Diary Officer

    By: Diyar Latif Translator: Daliya Raouf . (Record of the first night) I don’t remember how many days I have been feeling fear, despair, hunger, and doubt of surviving. A fear is cutting me like a saw. From time to time my colleague asks me: Can you remember Zhina? Can you remember Shno? or Lana,…

  • I would call you with a song

    By: Sabir Azizi Traslator: Daliya Raouf . I would call you with a song  I would sing you the torch song of Syachamana* I would point my hand at you laughing With you, I would go on a picnic and dance. During evening walks of Zrebar I would wet your hair. I would play the…

  • It was supposed to

    by: Hasan Kaya Translated by: Ata Miraki . The land was supposed to belong to everyone and heaven to be kingdom of God and the clouds for the birds nothing seemed like I wanted now, I don’t know who they belong to? but Now I’m a wandering man, maybe a gypsy! No night accepts me,…

  • Three short poems by Parwiz Zabih Gholami

    by: Parwiz Zabih Gholami Translator: Daliya Raouf . 1. I came from inside I came from inside, inside the stones, inside the trees, inside the birds. The sun stares at me like a dead man whom the dogs had found his laughters in the earthquake. Who knows how cruels is outside. My head is a…

  • The torn tickets

    by: Bahar Hosseini translator: Khalid Chalabi The torn ticketsthe new ticketsthe unknown countries ticketthe train ticketthe ship ticketi disclose all of themI were an exhausted ant between them. The known imagesthe unknownwhite and blockthe compatriotthe foreign languagei disclose all of themI were an exhausted ant between them. The life is nothing but bubble on waterThis…

  • From Qanat to Qarne

    by: Mahmoud Najmaddin translator: Shkar safeer It has been seven consecutive days raining and snowing heavily, Sulaimanyah was becoming like a rice field. The flood had swept away all the neighborhood and streets’ cartoons, plastics, cigar papers, and wastes. On the week’s last rainy night, the sky cleared, and a bitter cold started. In the…

  • The height

    By: saleh souzani Translate by: safoura hashemi chaleshtouri . Fatigue linesYou are brokenAnd stuckOn your aged forehead.O! wayfarerBy the flighted legThe cut off handIn prickly route of this epochHow you canPass out my heightOn tenterhooksHow you canUpon the fog of sorrow of heartOf love birdFollow the sunIn search forIn this manner.Scorch of the painIs intertwinedThe…