{"id":265,"date":"2007-02-22T15:36:00","date_gmt":"2007-02-22T15:36:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/nucleus-import\/?p=265"},"modified":"2007-02-22T15:36:00","modified_gmt":"2007-02-22T15:36:00","slug":"a-poem-by-fatemeh-haghverdian","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/a-poem-by-fatemeh-haghverdian\/","title":{"rendered":"A Poem by Fatemeh Haghverdian"},"content":{"rendered":"
Fatemeh Haghverdian<\/div>\n

For a skeleton’s 44th year<\/b>
\nby Fatemeh Haghverdian<\/i>
\nTranslated by:Ramin Rostampour<\/p>\n

My father sowed my life in the wind
\nSo that my mother would reap whirlwind
\nI was born upon the hand
\nSo that I would grasp my life with both hands.They held me upside down by my feet ,
\nWalloped my back
\nAnd then cut my root\u2026
\nCry with Breaths
\nAnd I began
\nAlong with my memories.<\/p>\n

Man and his memories has always stuck together
\nWhen my father came back
\nThere was a bullet in his hand
\nAnd a bullet in his heart
\nIt looked as if he’d died with folded arms
\nI said “Okay”
\nAnd folded my arms resignedly
\nMy mother brought her hands up
\nI became Sitar
\nShe didn’t know how to play.<\/p>\n

[][] <\/p>\n

I’ve become addicted
\nTo the invisible lines of these letters
\nTo the silent alphabet of these hands
\nTo the turbulent pulsations of these restless nights
\nSome streets through my eye
\nSome streets through my throat
\nSome streets through my arm
\nAll of the roads are less than the alleys that wander through me\u2026<\/p>\n

[][] <\/p>\n

Having been wrapped around tricolor cloth ,
\nMy childhood was buried
\nSo I shivered beneath the skin
\n that had dressed in black.
\n(Human beings are inseparable
\n from their childhoods;
\nAnxieties and desires of man
\nare born from his past’s womb)<\/p>\n

[][] <\/p>\n

I don’t become attached to
\nThe twinkle of these stars
\nTo transience of meteors which go out
\nI’ve become fascinated by the flames
\nthat blaze in your heart and
\n escape from your eyes.<\/p>\n

Sun Wells
\nout of your rocks
\nOcean ,out of my eye’s springs
\nI’m satisfied with a small river of yours
\nDon’t become sea
\nSo that I will die of thirst.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For a skeleton’s 44th year by Fatemeh Haghverdian Translated by:Ramin Rostampour My father sowed my life in the wind So that my mother would reap whirlwind I was born upon the hand So that I would grasp my life with both hands.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":550,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[45],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/550"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=265"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=265"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=265"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mahmag.org\/archive-english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=265"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}