صحفه آزد    شعر   داستان  عکس   نستالوژی   یک  نفر   زنگ تفرح  ياد  تماس با ما    صفحه نخست   دیگران

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Statue

The day will come
When all the lamps in this world
will rebel
and refuse to light up anymore,
because ever since they have existed
their eyes have been shining
above the heads of thousands of statues
in this world,
but not a single statue
has been erected
for Edison
 

 

Storm tide

The tide said to the fisherman:
There are many reasons
why my waves are in a rage.
The most important is
that I am for the freedom of the fish
and against
the net 

Seeds

We were millions
we were old trees
newly growing plants
and seeds. 
From the helmet of Ankara
they came at dawn
they uprooted us
they took us away
far away.
On the way the heads of
many old trees drooped
many new plants died in the cold
many seeds were trampled under foot
lost and forgotten
We grew thin like the summer river
we diminished like flocks of birds
towards the time of autumn
we diminished to mere thousands 
We had seeds
carried back by the wind
they reached the thirsty mountains again
they hid inside rock clefts
the first rain
the second rain
the third rain
they grew again
Now again we are a forest
we are millions
we are seeds 
plants
and old trees
the old helmet died!
And now you the new helmet
why have you put the head of the spear
under your chin?
Can you finish us off? 
But I know
and you know
as lond as there is a seed
for the rain and the wind
this forest will never end