From Saskatoon Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

From Saskatoon

I head for Battleford
To battle for my goal.

Fact-finding is target
And Inti, our god, aim.

I hear heart demand:
"Stand firm, open eyes."

For it I, must, will fight
Even if lose my life.

Tires kiss road, asphalt;
Buffalo, once there walked.

Visible to my right
"Kisiskatchewani Sipi."

Simply translate:
Is "Running Swiftly."

This swift and bending
Takes me far to Andes:
Where Prairies' cousins:
"Amaru, " "Catari…"
Mean snake, lightening!

Here, there, randomly,
I can see some trees…

"Hear, read and observe, "
Boil inside the kettle
Of my love-care, brain.

Leap in time, envision
The calves and their parents
Grazing lovingly
In gentle and ancient Prairie.

The smoke of combine
Kills train of my thoughts.

Suddenly, vehicle
Raises dust to skies
With single driver;
Hazing my attention.

No trace of marsh-pond
No bush and no swamp;
Buffalo, then-after
Is dead; no greatness!

The heroes, warriors
No more rule the terrain.

They become pigs, "Orwell's"
And are kept in "Reserves"
With many barns and pens!

I approach Battleford
To battle for my goal.

Target is to soar high
No limit to sky
Of the facts in our site.

I hear mind demand:
"Stand firm, open eyes."

Therefore, I must, will fight
Even if costs my life.

Both me and my target
Will be food for the birds
Only when we are dead.

I will be some Sufi;
Go to "Good, " "Bad, " "Ugly."
Hang from Tabarzin
Kashkool for the begging
Collectingwhat we need,
Even if too heavy…

With pride at stake!