Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ali Abdolrezaei

World War Final

We who had not believed
the war has ended
did not leave the trenches
nor put down our “Death to...”
or quit being so ridden in dust

We who have not believed
the towns are still on the offensive
the fields, still in retreat
and in between the forests are lost

While the war is still in between us
we are worming Kusturika’s Underground*
like when the bombs came
and we hid under the school bench
so behind the desk
they’d give pride of place to Mr Veteran**

The war is approaching again
so Zahra’s Heaven Cemetery~
won’t sit so far apart from Tehran
So the military police swap places
with the street dogs***
and women who recently learnt to smile
sit a little closer to tears

There won’t be sirens in between respites
to run to the basements this time
there shall be no enemies
the earth shall be
the trench in which to take refuge

We who don’t believe
the missiles won’t arrive this time
to take away a hundred people at a time
This won’t be a soldiers’ war
we shall all flap feathered wings

One cannot play pranks
with an atom bomb

جنگ جهانی آخر

جنگ جهانی آخر

ما که باور نکرده بودیم  
  جنگ تمام شده
وگرنه ترک سنگر می کردیم 
   ترک مرگ بر ...
و این همه خود را خاک بر سر نمی کردیم
ما که باور نکرده ایم
شهرها هنوز حمله می کنند   
   شالیزار‌ها عقب نشینی
و جنگل از بین می رود
اما جنگ     همیشه در بین است
و ما هنوز در آندرگراند* کاستاریکا می لولیم
مثل وقتی که بمب می آمد به مدرسه
و ما همه می رفتیم زیر میز
که پشت میز    به آقای از جنگ برگشته ای** صندلی بدهند
جنگ دارد    دوباره نزدیک می شود به شهر
تا بهشت زهرا این همه دور ننشیند از تهران
که جای سگ‌ها و دژبان‌ها*** عوض شود
و زن‌ها که تازه با لبخند آشنا شده اند
کمی نزدیک تر به گریه بنشینند
ما که باور نمی کنیم
این بار موشکی نمی آید
که صد نفر بمیرد
این جنگ سربازها نیست
همه پرواز می کنیم
و آژیری در کار نخواهد بود که مهلت بدهد
زیرزمین خانه ها را پر بکنیم
این بار دشمنی در کار نیست
زمین سنگری ست
که ما همه در آن پناه گرفته ایم
با بمب اتمی دیگر  
  نمی شود شوخی انگشتی کرد

پانوشت:
*نام فیلمی از عمیر کوستاریکا
**معمولن به سربازانی که از جنگ برمی گردند دولت مقام و منصب می دهد و هر جا که کار کنند نسبت به بثیه از اهمیت بیشتری برخوردارند
***وقت جنک ارتشی ها ی ویژه ای با نام ژاندارم با سگ هاشان در خیابانها می گردند و جوان ها را دستگیر می کنند و به عنوان سرباز به جنگ می برند
Close

World War Final

We who had not believed
the war has ended
did not leave the trenches
nor put down our “Death to...”
or quit being so ridden in dust

We who have not believed
the towns are still on the offensive
the fields, still in retreat
and in between the forests are lost

While the war is still in between us
we are worming Kusturika’s Underground*
like when the bombs came
and we hid under the school bench
so behind the desk
they’d give pride of place to Mr Veteran**

The war is approaching again
so Zahra’s Heaven Cemetery~
won’t sit so far apart from Tehran
So the military police swap places
with the street dogs***
and women who recently learnt to smile
sit a little closer to tears

There won’t be sirens in between respites
to run to the basements this time
there shall be no enemies
the earth shall be
the trench in which to take refuge

We who don’t believe
the missiles won’t arrive this time
to take away a hundred people at a time
This won’t be a soldiers’ war
we shall all flap feathered wings

One cannot play pranks
with an atom bomb

World War Final

We who had not believed
the war has ended
did not leave the trenches
nor put down our “Death to...”
or quit being so ridden in dust

We who have not believed
the towns are still on the offensive
the fields, still in retreat
and in between the forests are lost

While the war is still in between us
we are worming Kusturika’s Underground*
like when the bombs came
and we hid under the school bench
so behind the desk
they’d give pride of place to Mr Veteran**

The war is approaching again
so Zahra’s Heaven Cemetery~
won’t sit so far apart from Tehran
So the military police swap places
with the street dogs***
and women who recently learnt to smile
sit a little closer to tears

There won’t be sirens in between respites
to run to the basements this time
there shall be no enemies
the earth shall be
the trench in which to take refuge

We who don’t believe
the missiles won’t arrive this time
to take away a hundred people at a time
This won’t be a soldiers’ war
we shall all flap feathered wings

One cannot play pranks
with an atom bomb
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère