A-e-Ahmad
Time passes as evolve the stars
Day and night.
The things carved on our minds
will last long as do rocks
and stones.
I was kid and Jalal was published
a teacher and writer and active.
We heard of politics, mostly read secretly
and afraid.
One of books that he wrote
“Did-o-baz-did”
Talk of him in meetings…
Each time I go somewhere
I recall what he did.
In Warhol’s she sat there
(Researcher and writer)
I listened, observed her
Her clothes black-white.
Made faces;
Was nervous?
Her lips, face
And eyebrows…
Black pants was too tight
High heel shoes; her legs moved
One rested on other; and reverse.
Was seat bad, or tired?
Or nervous?
She knew deep; not all
Specialized…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem