22 Elegies in the Month of Tir, a new collection of poetry about post election events in Iran, has been published online // read the translation here

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Poem 3 / The Thorn Umbrella

I had opened up the window
to call you
a wall of leather and smoke
stood in front of me
I cried
no whisper came about,
I sighed
a bee of foam took wing in my throat
and a burning thread
sewed my lips tight.

Between the layers of my body
the spy was sleeping
I didn't know.

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