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.
that I have not given? ’
My Beloved said
‘O my dearest one,
in all places, at all times,
remember Me.’
‘O My Beloved,
how can I not do that? ’
* * *
In tears, I returned to My Beloved
and said
‘O my dearest one,
a week has passed, and the world
pressed hard upon me…
‘The next day, I remembered You
three times each hour;
the second day, I remembered You
but once an hour;
on the third day, I remembered You
in some hours, once; some twice;
some not at all… and so it went…
But O My Beloved,
each morning as I woke
I remembered through my tears
how I had forgotten You…’
My Beloved said
‘In the remembering of the forgetting
there was a feast of sweetest honey for Me,
hiding like a new young bride
laughing with her bridegroom,
laughing with her eyes on Him,
in the silken tent of love.’