Cinnamon
I boiled the pack of milk
- (‘expired', after weeks)
-and added cinnamon…
- (as had seen in childhood.)
In Tehran, when was kid
-they set me in high chair,
-to wait for the barber.
The chairs were in open.
-We faced wall of bricks
-on the west corner of
-old Meidan Fawzieh...
The barbers hung mirrors,
-relatively small, in frames.
On coming, his machine,
-said: "click and click…"
The cut hair would fall on
-my lap and kids looked on.
He had a silver and long blade
-that sharpened using belt
-of leather; which made wet.
He trimmed, and levelled
-around neck and ears…
-also shaved sides of face.
Then came the cup of tea
-in a small glass, steaming;
-with sugar, in cube on saucer.
The served-tea was very special
-and became idiom: "cheap barber"
- (for being spiced with cinnamon!)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem