Ali Salami

Forough Farrokhzad: Only the Voice Remains [Tanha Sedast I Mimanad]

Why should I stop, why

When birds have flown in search of the azure realm,

The horizon is vertical,

The horizon is vertical and movement is effervescent,

And within the limits of perception,

The luminous planets revolve,

The earth repeats itself aloft,

And air shafts

Become tunnels of connection,

And the day is a vastness

That does not fit into the narrow imagination of a newspaper worm.

Why should I stop?

The path leads through the capillaries of life,

The nutrient quality of the lunar peritoneum

Will kill the rotten cells,

And in the chemical space after dawn,

There is only sound,

A sound that melts the particles of time.

Why should I stop?


What can a swamp be

Than a breeding ground for foul insects,

Bloated corpses mark the cold storage of thought.

The coward, in the darkness,

Hides his lack of manly courage,

And the cockroach… oh,

When the cockroach speaks.

Why should I stop?

The collaboration of lead letters is futile.

The collaboration of lead letters

Will save the insignificant thought.

I come from the race of trees,

Breathing stale air makes me tired,

A bird that was dead advised me to remember the flight.


The highest of all powers is to join, to join

With the clear principle of the sun,

And to pour oneself into the consciousness of light,

It is natural

That windmills rot.

Why should I stop?

I cradle the unripe grains of wheat

Under my breast,

And I give them milk.

Sound, sound, only sound,

The clear plea of water to flow,

The sound of starlight falling on the womb of the earth,

The sound of the conception of meaning,

And the expansion of the collective spirit of love.

Sound, sound, sound, only the sound remains.


In the land of the liliputians,

The metric of measurement

Always traveled around the orbit of zero.

Why should I stop?

I obey the four elements,

And the task of writing the charter of my heart

Is not the work of the local government of the whirlwind.

What have I to do with the long howl of wildness,

In the sexual organ of an animal?

What have I to do with the despicable movement of a worm in the carnal void?

The bloodline of flowers has committed me to life,

The bloodline of flowers, do you understand?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *