Soheil Najm

Soheil Najm Poems

The Best Poem Of Soheil Najm

Train Of The Caliph

Like a huge bird, it roams the seven skies,
and takes you wherever you want,
to hell… or paradise.

Its passengers never know sleep nor wakefulness.
It feeds from the teachings received by the Caliph
from the unseen world.
Men of sands with petrified eyes drive it
so it doesn't know inclination.
There are markets selling harem, and vegetables;
there are slaves selling freemen.
…Even God is for sale in this train.

At the dawn when it looms
it overflows with nymphs and heavens.
It shines on the horizon, like a sword.
Death in it is a prayer at Eid time.
Happily, devouring victims and distances.
Madness is its color approaching hour of fear.
Time stands woody in its stations
or returns backwards,
humiliated gulping cups of illusion.

We have been told in the vision: an apparition stepped here.
He was a prophet with one eye
and one leg.
Under his cloak he concealed the clouds
and between his teeth flashed what looked like gold.
The Prophet knocked the Caliph's door
and handed him over a pile of secrets,
a song for the extinction,
amulets, spells
and recruited soldiers from rotted sandalwood
crammed in the train.

God sees you are the coming and the knower, he said.
Seven troops track your shoulders
and eleven angels carrying books in their right hands
engraved in a ring,
the ring with a light never rust,
and a blessing pearl praying all night alone,
when you put it in your pinkie
lions and kings sleep at your feet.

Then the prince of the believers ordered in his sermon:
Let the train fetch the monsters,
we want to purify the nature from deviation,
and purify wombs.
Let the female give birth to a new language of fear
and let her fraternize with the snake.
We need men for the war against our mortal selves,
we need valleys of illusion to the poets,
we need a herd of nymphs, covered with lust,
to sleep with our dead soldiers.
We need the ancient land to kneel at our feet
dragging by its tail planets of night and day.
In Thy name we will harvest the necks
and shed blood on the dust.

In Thy name, O Lord, I will bless this river
washing my feet, laughingly goes
to the pastures.
I have no requirements but, after your satisfaction,
I need the major countries
kneel
and the minor countries
subject.
Glory to you
exploited the bullets, the sheep and the widows
to us,
by them we knocked down boredom
and decorated the images of history by burying the heretics
-alive-


Eid: The sacred religious days of Moslems.
In Koran, in the hereafter every believer takes his book in his right hand.
Another title of the Caliph.


• Translated from Arabic by the poet.

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