It dawned on me
Come, come I vomited
Fingers grow out of my eyes in handfuls after handfuls
They whistle, and I ask: Where?
Tassels and hats rain down the sky
I was singing Feed us grass!
It had dawned on me
Voices poured in handfuls on my face
My horse!
Give me my horse!
As much as it looked, did not recognize
Was saying come come all the way from Somalia one night
Come from a forest that’s not evident
Do come, you’re a night higher than the stairs!
I was looking He didn’t recognize
I said, look, it’s me Somalia
It wasn’t even clear to me if I was my own self
He had fisted his hand
I was saying clench your finger, like this, look
Said, now that fingers are clenched one by one, how one would know if it’s empty?
I said, well, why would one think it’s empty?
His back full His fist empty
He was running
Said, how would one know?
I said it’s obvious, look there
Pulled his hand out of mine and stood up.
The arrow got right out of my bow and was gone for good
At the side of Sinai, there was the wild revolt of a light in two bowls for a crumpled army
On three flanks, there were three mountains, and on the fourth flank there was nothing, even dirt, except I
–
Abouzar Karimi
June 2011
Translated by Saghi Ghahraman
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