Bejan Baran:
DIASPORA
Oh, my little sister!
You’re so lucky, going back home.
You’ll find new friends-
boys and girls.
I’m sure, you’ll have fun
to put your new clothes on,
walking with ma and pa,
visiting folks, you know.
Every day, getting up
to face new faces-
who will adore you?
You leave behind
your brother-
all alone in a new land-
and your friends
who can’t share school secrets with you?
You pick up the phone and call Joan.
It is her birthday-
and yours too.
She has a gift for you;
but can’t give it to you,
for you are no more her neighbor.
You ask her about other kids.
*
Overhearing your talk,
a volcano builds up in me
overflows at the top
drops of fire on my face.
Why leaving friends behind?
Why can’t we stop the time?
When do we see ‘m again?
if we ever see ‘m again?
When can we say things we used to say?
when do we whisper or cry?
Perhaps, someday,
a sunny day,
on the sidewalk, down the street
filled with pigeons
a familiar face flashes up in the crowd
bringing you into the labyrinth of memories.
Perhaps, someday,
a rainy day,
reading the paper by a foggy window,
you’ll see a familiar name.
Life is a train of memories
receding in a foggy course.
*
Now the call is over,
you run to pa and ma crying;
and I load up the trunk
with your baggage.
EPIGRAM 1
“The great wall of China…”
- Kafka
A wall around you-
then, why a door?