Chel
چل
چم شده چل شدم
فکرم این بود که جهان وطنمه و بی مرزم توی نقشه
چل سالگی یه بلوغ شاعرانه اس که بدنش وطنت شه
بحران ناب هستی تو هیچ کتابی پیدا نمیشه رفیق
بنیان عقل به جایی نمیرسه که شیدا بشه رفیق
...تجربه ی خام
تاج زیر پام
تا جا داره پس
من تاجر خاطره هام
من متهم به چل سالگی ام
چلّم و بگیر
چم شده چل شدم
چلچلچه ها چل ساله نمیشن
یه نمه نمور بوی نم خاک
گریه ی سنتی توی گوشه ی راک
پچ پچ پیچیده تو پیچک ها
خیابون خط خورده تو کوچه ها
چم شده چل شدم
بزن بغل بگیر آدمارو
زیر بگیر عکس ماه رو تو برکه ها
جمع کن تیکههای عشقتو از وسط جسد جاده ها
چم شده چل شدم
کفشای سرخ بچم رو زمین جامونده خودش کجاست
عکس ازدواج من و تو هم لای لاشه ی چمدوناس
من مسؤل رفتن توام و تو مسؤل مرگ موندن من
بی معرفت جا گذاشتی با مرگت منو با زنده موندنم
حقیقت داشت
چهل بار چل شدم
ببخش بیتو بیهوا وارث دردهای مشکل شدم
نقش دوم
مرد مرده
پای من با تو رو زمین بود پریدی زیر پاهام خالی شد قعر
سقوط واژه ی تلخی بود که بعد از تو متعالی شد پر
زندهام؟ خنده وسط داغ
دامن خون چکیده توی باغ
من تو مسیر گیس تو ، ییلاق
نار پوست
سفید و رخشان
رگهای مرصع
کل به کمان تو دل به کمین کلام کتاب
خالی
کافی کام مکرم
کشف کلید معبد پوشالی
نفس سوم
نقش ثلاثی
عتیق
غریق
عجیب
ابلق
چل
بعثت انزال من از گور به گور تا
به شب در چشم تو زلزله پاشید و زمین ترسید
بوسه ی آخر چریک
بغض سیانور
نیش فشنگ
خواب خیابون پرید
شلخ
بی تنهاترین غریق لای امواج نگاه مردم
بی تو حالا حال نفس کشیدن نیست
ملتمس زهر کژدم
Forty / Insane (1)
What’s happened to me? I’ve gone insane! (I’ve turned forty!)
I thought my homeland is the whole world and I have no borders on the map
Turning forty is a poetic maturity, as her body would become your homeland!
The pure existential crisis wouldn’t be found in any book my friend
The principle of wisdom won’t reach the point of being lovelorn my friend!
Immature experience...
The crown under my feet
So as far as possible
I’m the tradesman of the memories
I’m accused of being forty
Hold my fortieth-day memorial! (2)
What’s happened to me? I’ve turned forty!
The Swallows don’t reach the age of forty
(It’s) a little dampish, (like) the Petrichor (damp soil scent)
Traditional (music) cry in “Rāk Gusheh” (3)
Whispers weaving throughout the tendrils
The street is crossed out in the alleys
What’s happened to me? I’ve gone crazy!
Pull over, hug the people!
Overrun the moon’s reflection on the lake!
Pick up the pieces of your beloved one from the middle of the road’s corpse!
What’s happened to me? I’ve turned forty!
My child’s red shoes are left on the ground, but where is she herself?
Our wedding’s photo is also somewhere in the luggage’s cadaver
I’m responsible for your leaving and you’re the undertaker of my abidance’s death!
Hey uncaring! By your death you left me alone with my survival...
It was true
I’ve gone mad forty times!
Forgive me! Without you, I suddenly inherited troublesome pains
The second role
The dead man
With you my feet were on the ground, you flew,
then the rug was pulled from under my feet
deep down away...
Downfall was a bitter word,
which became transcendental after you
were gone away...
The skirt, blood is dropped in the garden
I on my way to your hair, summer-quarter
Rosy skinned
White and bright
Inlaid veins patterns
Ululating (4) for (the beauty of) your arched eyebrow
(My) Heart falling into the trap of the Word in the Book
Blank
(I) reveled more than enough!
Discovering the key to the paper temple!
The third ego
The tertiary role
Antique
Drowned
Weird
Piebald
Insane!
My ejaculation’s prophetic mission from grave to grave, so that
at night the quake splattered in your eyes and the earth feared!
The Guerrilla’s last kiss!
A lump in Cyanide’s throat!
The bullet sore
The street got wide awake
Shalakh! (5)
The loneliest loner drowned in the midst of the waves of people’s stare
Now without you, (I’m) not in the mood to breathe...
Begging for scorpion’s venom!
1. In spoken Persian the word “Chel” means “insane, mad etc.” as well as the number “forty”.
2. The “Fortieth Day After Death” is a traditional memorial service, family gathering and rituals in
memory of the departed on the fortieth day after their death.
3. There are many short melodic movements in Iranian traditional music called “Gusheh”. “Rāk” is one of them, which also has its own different types. The “Gushes” are classified into twelve “Avāz”, which build up seven main “Dastgāh” or “modes”.
4. To make a long, high cry using tongue to change between two or three notes up and down, often to show high emotions by women especially at a ceremony such as a wedding or funeral.
5. A middle eastern interjection which could have no or any meaning in different situations.
Translation: Nick Rastin