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Quote by Андрей Полеев

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Конституционный строй в России.

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Андрей Полеев

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“Suppose That I'm Inevitable Suppose that I'm inevitable Even the veins of my right hand Cross you from the drafts. On my smooth nails The breeze Which is not from the sky Is curving you Either the veins of my right hand Is running short On my pulse. Rolled along my fingers Vanished Not repeated forever For the second. I'm a half Since the first. The veins of my neck cross you all. If the warmth of my ten fingers Seized on your torn pieces of breath All is over With the dead-end alleys all in oblivion. (TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN INTO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”

PoetryPoemsLove PoemsPersian PoetryIranian PoetsIranian Female Poets
Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“Like A Hanged Pitcher Like a hanged pitcher, No drink is pouring off me It's natural to get numbed gradually. Pig-headed seashells! This boasting sky, Is an anchor which has fallen on my lap This dizzy sky! The moon's been cleared A shadow's coming after me Barefooted on my dreams You used to run! Enjoyed?! Numb! All my veins are connected to this land... Like a hanged pitcher Joyful of this sky One day a huge whale swallowed it as a whole. And it was over! The Gulf was over! You waved hands. Like a hanged pitcher, It's simple! I lost the game And gambled away... (TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN TO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”

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Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“The Last Street of Tehean Facing the airport, all that's now left in my grasp is a crumpled land that fits in the palm of my hand. Facing wavering sunbeams— a sun that is angry and mute. All the way from the salt sands of Dasht-e Lut, it came, the dream that forced my fingers' shift, that set my teeth on edge. A muted breeze, whirlwind spun from sand dunes all the way, even through the back alley. Are you pasting together the cut-up fragments of my face to make me laugh? No longer than the palm of the hand, a short leap, exactly the length you had predicted. A huge grave in which to lay the longest night of the year to sleep. Sleep has quit our eyelids for other pastures, has dropped its anchor at the shores of garden ponds, has lost the chapped flaking of its lips, poor thing! Are you pasting together the cut-up fragments of my face to make me laugh? With scissors - snip, snip - they are severing something. The alphabet shavings strewn on the ground, are they the letters that spell our family name? With every zig-zag, you cage my mother's breath, her footprints fading in the shifting sands. Are you pasting together the cut-up fragments of my face to make me laugh? No. A strange land-shape form. I will not return. I left behind a shoe, one of a pair, for you to put on and follow after me. Translated from Persian to English by Franklin Lewis”

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Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“The Flintstone Block No.1: A whole nation has created the kindling Which owes you desperately But it hasn’t been specified Whether it’s the flintstone Or A firestorm? Block No.2: A piece of my happiness is in debt with the flintstone You’ve turned to the rocks But it’s for the flint stone. Block No.3: I’m in debt with the flintstone The whole world is in debt with the flintstone Block No.4: It has cast a spell For all your desires Behind the railing. Block No.5: I’m the mother of this Flintstone I’ve nourished it I’ve shed tears on it If the world is on fire I’m the one to blame. Block No.6: I’ve betrayed the heaven above God is disabled by it. Block No.7: And since then people have taken the vow of silence, … From 'Dating Noah’s Son' Rosa Jamali (TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL PERSIAN INTO ENGLISH BY ROSA JAMALI)”

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Book:Selected Poems of Rosa Jamali
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“You are not a victim. No matter what you have been through, you're still here. You may have been challenged, hurt, betrayed, beaten, and discouraged, but nothing has defeated you. You are still here! You have been delayed but not denied. You are not a victim, you are a victor. You have a history of victory.”

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Book:Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience
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