Rose

“I'm not praying," she said. "I'm remembering. Sometimes the two things look alike, that's all.”
― John Boyne, The Heart's Invisible Furies

“Tehran Cuddled In My Arms
Tehran in my arms
At the agony of death
In my bosom
Is an aged bull
Which is mooing
Yet tamed and dull
Rubbing its figure on my hair.
But tomorrow,
It 'll be a dead body
And the dustman will collect it
I'm a refuge of this kicking bitch dog
And I'll leave it to God...


Rosa Jamali


(TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN TO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”
― Rosa Jamali, Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali

“walking towards freedom is impossible let your soul fly!”
― Mehran Hashemi, caged hope: poetic pieces of a persian soul

“Suppose That I'm Inevitable
Suppose that I'm inevitable
Even the veins of my right hand
Cross you from the drafts.

On my smooth nails
The breeze
Which is not from the sky
Is curving you
Either the veins of my right hand
Is running short
On my pulse.

Rolled along my fingers
Vanished
Not repeated forever
For the second.
I'm a half
Since the first.

The veins of my neck cross you all.

If the warmth of my ten fingers
Seized on your torn pieces of breath
All is over
With the dead-end alleys
all in oblivion.


(TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN INTO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”
― Rosa Jamali, Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali