Hamed Komeili, 27 listopada 2011
I
remember
I was a skillful painter
Like Van Gogh like Dali
I was just
busy with
Drawing the beauty of oases
I remember
I draw a garden on
the height
There was a beautiful pond in the middle
But
The flowers
were all sorrowful
Because of thirst
I thought to draw a human
being
To water the flowers
And saturate them
I took a brush
Do
you have permission? My friend said
No, I said
It is said not to draw
a hand, he said
Maybe this hand takes a brush
To draw on the wall
To
write down with injustice
Ok I said
It is said not to draw a leg, he
said
Maybe this leg runs like a fawn
And cause a victim to escape
Ok I
said
It is said not to draw eyes and lips, he said
Maybe these eyes
see the dark
And the lips say the story of this contempt
Ok I
said
It is said not to draw ears, he said
Maybe these ears hear the
wail of a man
Ok I said
I remember
I drew a man
Who couldn’t
see this beautiful scene
And didn’t water the flowers
Because he didn’t
have any hands
And he was not able to move
With no legs
The lonely
man couldn’t hear the birds' songs
With no ears
The sad man couldn’t
sing
Without lips
He himself knew
Who will be captured in my
painting
Forever
And he had
A sincere heart in his breast
I
remember
My garden dried
And the pond become lagoon
And flowers
withered
I remember
To appreciate my beautiful art
And my dauntless
answers
I being responsible to issue the permission
At once
Because
of having my high rank
I said:
Order to draw hand
This hand should
take a brush
Draw on the wall
Write down with freedom
Down with
repeating flower and oasis
Order to draw legs
These legs have to run
in the garden
And squash
Every beautiful flower
Order to draw
lips
These lips have to tell us
The place of pigeons
Order to draw
eyes
These eyes have to see the dark
And feel the presence of
demon
Do you remember yet?
The years pass
I and you are retired
In meanness, my friend
Do you remember yet?
How much cruel we
were?
How many odes we killed together?
How many mouth we shut together?
I know well
Paradise isn’t oppressors place
I know well
Paradise is place of pigeons
Who only laugh
But hell
Is only
for you and me
And hell is here
You and I are the devil's slaves yet!
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