poet Rosa Jamali

Rosa Jamali

The Last Street Of Tehran (Translated From Original Persian To English)

At the airport;
Now what I have inside my fist
Is a tight piece of land
Barely exceeds the size of a single palm of my hands
Sliding into the slippery sun
The Sun is not on the speaking term with us!
The long Dream of moving fingers
Is rooted from the Lout Desert
Stiffened through my teeth
Blurred into the whirlwind
Twisting, surrounding the sandy moor
Landing towards the back alley right in the vicinity of my home.

Hey, are you putting together the pieces of my face to make me laugh?

A short cruise, the precise size of a palm
My fortune has been doomed as lengthy as my hand;
The lengthy mass grave
To put the longest night of the year to sleep.
Dreams have left our eyelids
Lowering its anchor on the sides of the pool
Somebody has lost his torn-up mouth
Little puny scanty thing, …!

Hey, are you putting together the pieces of my face to make me laugh?

Pieces are being scissored
The shattered pieces on my land are the letters of my ID
Fallen to the state of oblivion
Amnesia!

Bumping over the puddles, every other
Stretched along the desert
My mum's sighs have been jailed
And I'm losing her footprints.

Hey, are you putting the pieces of my face together to make me laugh?

Never ever!
Won't go back to the last avenue
What I left for you is a single shoe
To put on and follow me!
The weirdest skyline
Navigation exceeds 3 feet
The size of my right palm!

Topic(s) of this poem: life

Poem Submitted: Friday, September 26, 2008
Poem Edited: Saturday, December 6, 2014

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Comments about The Last Street Of Tehran (Translated From Original Persian To English) by Rosa Jamali

  • Chinedu DikeChinedu Dike (5/23/2020 3:39:00 AM)

    Really a poignant bit of verse written with clarity of thought and mind.
    An insightful creation.
    Thanks for sharing, Rosa.

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  • Dr Tony BrahminDr Tony Brahmin (4/13/2019 1:28:00 PM)

    Dreams have left our eyelids
    Lowering its anchor on the sides of the pool
    Somebody has lost his torn-up mouth
    Little puny scanty thing, …! put the pieces of my face to see me laughing. what a kind of imagination in this poem, throughout. thanku dear poetess. tony

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  • _____________________________________ - (9/26/2008 2:44:00 PM)

    The sleep has migrated from our eyelids
    Has covered the river bank
    Drenched,
    Torn- up lips

    Thanks so much thanks indeed

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  • Joseph Poewhit (9/26/2008 10:24:00 AM)

    One should wear their shawl to protect the beauty of the face from the desert

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