My beloved,
with his bare bold body-
rose over his legs,
fearless like death.
On his firm face,
an array of fine lines-
was tailored by the revolt-
of his limbs.
My beloved surely belongs-
to a faded clan.
In the depths of his eyes, it seems-
A Tartar is constantly on guard-
for the advent of knights.
In brightness of his teeth, it seems-
a primal man- is patiently waiting-
for cornering a prey.
My beloved is like the earth-
in his blunt fated air,
in his concrete, cruel rule.
My beloved is wildly free.
My beloved is like a whole instinct-
In the core of a dark isolated isle.
My beloved is originally estranged,
like veiled gods, like lone monks.
My beloved is a male from the ancient eras,
and from the natural age of beauty.
By his tread, he awakens-
the innocent sense of youth.
With his aura, he reminds-
the fond flavor of mythical tales.
He loves with such a faith-
all bits of life, all tads of soil
all laughs and all the sorrows.
He loves with such a faith-
The void roads of the parish, the green veins of the trees
the slight smell of soap, the fresh taste of milk.
My beloved surely belongs-
to a faded clan.
My beloved,
He is a natural man.
And in this wicked wonderland
He must hide away.
My beloved,
He is a simple man.
And like the last rest of the vast past beliefs,
I hide him always away,
in the wake of warmth of my breasts.
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, September 2006, Montreal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem