At the airport <br />Now what I have in my fist <br />Is this cramped land <br />Which is the right size of the palms of my hands <br />Inclined onto the slippery sunlight <br />And the sun is sulking, not on the speaking term with us, <br />The dream coming from the Lut desert is moving my fingers <br />The blowings stiffen my teeth <br />And the whirlwind from the sandy desert <br />Is blowing our home over. <br /> <br />You're gluing the torn-up pieces of my face to make me laugh? <br /> <br />How can I skip over your hands? <br />Precisely like the way you predicted that <br />A huge mass grave <br />To put the longest night to sleep <br />The sleep has migrated from our eyelids <br />Has covered the river bank <br />Drenched, <br />Torn- up lips! <br /> <br />Are you gluing the pieces of my face to make me laugh? <br /> <br />With scissors, <br />They're cutting something <br />Alphabet drooping on the soil <br />Vanished letters of our names <br />Had you forgotten them? <br />Through the zigzags, <br />Firm and stiff <br />In the middle of desert, <br />Spread <br />You've locked up my mother's breath! <br />Her footprints vanishing on the sand... <br /> <br />Are you gluing the torn-up pieces of my face to make me laugh? <br />No! ... <br />I won't be back <br />I won't return to the last street of Tehran <br />I left a single shoe here <br />For you <br />To put on <br />And follow me! <br />The outline is shaping on the horizon <br />It's the size of my fist <br />Landing exceeds 3 feet <br />The precise size of my hand! <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />* The Lut Desert is a desert in the South-east of Iran.<br /><br />Rosa Jamali<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-street-of-tehran-translated-from-original-persian-to-english/
