By: Ahmad-e Shamlou
Translated by: Reza Parhizgar
They breath-detect you
Lest you might have said I love you.
They breath-detect your heart
Strange times, love!
And Love is being lashed at the check-point pole.
Love must be hidden in the back room
In this crooked blind alley and the turn of the frost
They keep the fire ablaze
With the fire-wood of poetry and song.
Do not risk thinking.
Strange times, love!
The one knocking at your door at night,
Has come to kill the light.
Light must be hidden in the back room
There the butchers are stationed
On the passage-ways
With blood-stained cleavers and chopping logs
Strange times, love!
And slash smiles off the lips
Slash songs off the mouths.
Joy must be hidden in the back room
Canary grilled on the fire of lily and jasmine
Strange times, love!
The victory-drunk devil
Is now a guest at our mourning banquet.
God must be hidden in the back room
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem