Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh, 27 kwietnia 2012
My entire being
is a battleground, in which
the Leper Writers, make their interpretation in the encyclopedia of tumbledown homes.
The newly returned wounded of war,
remove bandages from their bullet-stricken feet.
Boots after boots are being taken off,
announcing their arrivals to families,
so that the long period of anticipation is ended!
Wind is blowing,
and the child,
goes to the father's bedside.
Wind is blowing,
Mother holds the child in her bosom.
Wind is blowing,
but the girl, still young,
is the spectator of a weary horde of soldiers,
carrying the frigidity of her husband's corpse,
through the rushing crowd .
(( Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh ))
Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh, 26 kwietnia 2012
The Sun sets dauntlessly,
small pools of water halt vaporizing,
and once again, jackals,
the ever ready jarring predators
pounce on the vulnerable nests of birds.
Thus rises a call from the West,
and another cry from the East.
Night will fall on a Blacksmith,
whose "Kaviyani" Pennant is covered with dust,
and darkness is the same as a napery,
which resembles the Dead-Eating Explorers.
Do not abandon me!
In this "Unholy Land",
the Shrine I have chosen,
has been bewitched by those,
who forge words and statures .
(( Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh ))
Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh, 26 kwietnia 2012
O, witnesses of the night
Exile me
To the most distant point of the universe
In the complex area of the vacuum
Moment by moment
I think about my enjoyment
That night
the voice of calligrapher's pen was heard
And i feigned sleep
I became tired
Time
is my place to act
I have acknowledged my faith
I shall go to the cemetery
To dig a grave for myself
but
The weather is cold
It's snowing
And umbrellas
Have put my burial ceremony off .
(( Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh ))
Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh, 26 kwietnia 2012
Everyone would have abandoned you,
but an executed Angel in your heart,
who sent out the resurrection of her brain
to the slaughtering field of the Trumpeters,
and the duel-declaration of two eyes,
with the edge of your breathing
which challenged the world of your ears.
Oh, philosophical nightmares of mine!
My lips lack the ability to move.
I wish for setting myself ablaze,
as do the meteors entering the atmosphere.
O' religions of the world,
enunciate the decree of my excommunication
and allow the shepherds breathe with ease .
(( Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh ))
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