Poem
Sarya Abra
Revolution
It so happens
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
© Translation: 2017, Abol Froushan
انقلاب
انقلاب
اتفاق اگر بیفتد
اگر ما/دری شویم
که مدام باز یا بسته
گوسالهها
عوضی انقلاب میکنند
و جنگ
که مامای حاذقی نیست
بخیه نمیزند به انقلاب
گاو اگر نباشیم
جار نمیزنیم ...
مااااا در پِهِن غلت میزنیم
و شیرمان که پرچرب است
از گلویی نمیرود پایین
سرِ خرمن اگر
وعدهای نشود کشک
اگر فشنگ سامان نگیرد
و چشم در لولههای تفنگ جا نماند
پسرم گاو میشود
تا دختری
تن فروشی کند با عروسیش
رقاصی کند این اختلاس
در آخوری پوشالی
عوضی شدم در اتاق عمل
که روی سر مادر بود
اگر سرِ زا میرفت
آژیر
میکشیدم
حتی قرمزتر از خونی
که ریخته از شعرم
مرگ مغزی نمیشود این سطر
تا مادرم لبخند بزند
و از یاد نرود هرگز
سنگ قبرهایی
که در سرش خاکستری ماند
که مدام باز یا بسته
گوسالهها
عوضی انقلاب میکنند
و جنگ
که مامای حاذقی نیست
بخیه نمیزند به انقلاب
گاو اگر نباشیم
جار نمیزنیم ...
مااااا در پِهِن غلت میزنیم
و شیرمان که پرچرب است
از گلویی نمیرود پایین
سرِ خرمن اگر
وعدهای نشود کشک
اگر فشنگ سامان نگیرد
و چشم در لولههای تفنگ جا نماند
پسرم گاو میشود
تا دختری
تن فروشی کند با عروسیش
رقاصی کند این اختلاس
در آخوری پوشالی
عوضی شدم در اتاق عمل
که روی سر مادر بود
اگر سرِ زا میرفت
آژیر
میکشیدم
حتی قرمزتر از خونی
که ریخته از شعرم
مرگ مغزی نمیشود این سطر
تا مادرم لبخند بزند
و از یاد نرود هرگز
سنگ قبرهایی
که در سرش خاکستری ماند
© 2017, Sarya Abra
Poems
Poems of Sarya Abra
Close
Revolution
It so happens
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
© 2017, Abol Froushan
Revolution
It so happens
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
that if we mother doors
that swing open and shut
so young cows
mistakenly make revolution
And war
not a deft midwife
won't stitch the revolution
If we weren't cattle
we wouldn't shout
Moo... We are rolling in cowpats
And our milk is so full fat
it sticks in the throat
At the harvest
should a promise not go sour as milk
should a bullet find no place to rest
and no eye be left behind in the gun barrels
My son would become an ox
So a girl would sell herself to alimony
dancing around the bribery
In a trough of straw
I was swapped in the delivery room
Where my mother would not die
at childbirth, if I screamed
even redder than the blood
that's oozing from my poem
This line won't be brain dead
until my mother smiles
And I won't forget
the tomb stone
we buried in her head
© 2017, Abol Froushan
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