The River

I'm sorry if I didn't show it all
Never meant to harm
I should cut my hair
To make peace with myself
But I don't have the courage
To do so

So I'm gonna crawl back to my bed
Where I can see the ceiling as it is
It's almost summer
And I can not sleep in the river anymore

"
There is no comprehension
There is real isolation
There is so much destruction
What I want is a celebration

I got you under my skin "

(Madonna)

Precious chaos


I was lying there in the red room
Your lips were there, tight in bloom
I saw them
Wrinkles of your virility
Ambivalence in your innocent rebel facility

Rebel was when he moved
Like the wrinkles on a hidden wood
In a beaver hood
That stood
And understood

"You saw it all..."
No you did not
You just choked
Even when we spoke and spoiled

I'm not here
And I will never be
Don't knock it up
Cuz I won't let that little girl inside down
I won't

Mute


He's so damn like his dad
Asking me how I feel? Glad!
Dad says: I bought that Shakespeare's
They pause
He stairs at the maroon rows of chairs
How they would creak loudly?
Couple of minuets passes
He says; I love poems
Dad's reading the book
His brother, same similarity,
Crawls next to dad
Grandpa comes fat and red
I bet he's just been fed
They all share the same shape of head
He's still staring at the maroon rows of chairs
And they all creak
Mute..
Asking me how I feel? I'm fuckin' glad!

چه بگویم؟
خسته ام.زیاد...
از این دخترک و سکوتهای طولانیش دلم می گیرد.
می کوبد خودش را بر تکه ای فلز بی احساس ،از ترس آنکه مبادا ما خجالت زده شویم.
می کوبد خودش را بر سردی لرزان آن و اشک می ریزد.
تاب تحملش را ندارم.

صدای خودم را می شنوم که انگار سالها از من دور است
صدای حزن انگیز یک زن
چه بیهوده می کوشم که تو را گرم کنم
کودک،کودک فرِاّر
دستانم را باز می کنم
می لغزی
می روی

تسلی خواهم یافت
رشد خواهم کرد
نغمه خواهم ساخت
برو
و به عقب باز نگرد
پشت سر چیزی نیست
هیچ چیز

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"همیشه نا تمام می ماند
حرفهای من با خودم..."
( عباس کیارستمی)