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Moon and History (Free verse) by kawakurdi
O the moon that shines in her eyes As big as your circle give a cleavage to this night As big as a loop let me see the whiteness of body Her chest, breast, her thighs, bottom cheeks, arms, neck and forehead Mixed with wine With soul's fantasy Revive my strength for the sahara's travels I can see the track of horse's shoes on my forehead A staircase descends to hell A ladder ascends to paradise On the bridge of her love I have been tied with a hair Albeit, I am careless I am careless about any chance, any conclusion I write with imagination and look to God's dimension On the white body, as big as moon's halo, I am waiting for a rain to well up A spring, a row of orchards to flow Watering me with their whispers Spoiling me with their aroma For long my springs have been without daffodils My autumns have been bereft of the blood of grapes Our wheat flowers are charcoal stalks The wind blows solely to wither my fingers I did not reach the summit of the mountain I didn't suck the horizon I fell down the slope of history Salah-al-Din's horses did not help me to hold on The swords of Rostam did not put a bridge under my feet The hammer of Kawa did not build a throne for me The prayers of Abraham did not cool my furnace The patience of Jacob did not pass my long night of pain The Noah's ark did not take my drowning across I will make a ship from the white-moon body And start a sea voyage Outside I smell I smell foreigners I smell spies and homeland sellers I smell rotten love A wind blows It is all flame and rust I see the heads of wheat flowers wilting They droop until they fell under feet History like a herd of wolves Gathers around the moon's body Lusty howls Turn night into a flute for prey beasts The dawn is the chilly body of a raped woman Only the police approach her on the back of their wooden horses They ask the woman to provide her fingerprint and DNA They ask her to react the play of the swords History screams The herds of wolves recognise the smell of blood They follow the traces of the detectives Oh! My heart is tearing apart O the moon which shines from her eyes As big as your circle give a cleavage to this night.

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zodiac209.193.18.1007January 11, 2006 8:40 PM PST
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