Poetry

 

 پوست آهو کشیده به تن

Nude

Standing slanting erect like trees teasing the wind

His unbraided hair linger on shoulder blades

Nude

He’s pulled deerskin over his flesh

به ناز

 ایستاده، خیال می کنم، اما همین فقط ایستاده، اما به ناز

Not bent

Not straight

Leaning his temple on the wall

The sun

Now gone

Splashed on his skin sunrays

He tips with the tip of the toes the pillow; not fallen on the foot of

The bed in this room which is not a bedroom but a café

Where I sleep at nights with all the beer

And gaze at his skin at him

Nude

Naked nude

در را به هم می زند پنجره را به هم می زند

سرد است

لخت است

زیر لایه های لباس

دستش را می کشد

بیرون

Rubs

On my eyes my lips

Opens my eyes my legs

So that I go

Ahead

Again

Not come go back

Not in sleep

Not in person

And my mouth

Agape

Awonder

Here

Not to inhale

Doesn’t look like sucking this swallowing up

I am sinking I am not coming, here,

اینجا

که ایستاده او باد وزیده به ایستادنش همیشه

Naked

Under layers of shirts color

Over color

Sitting up, or down, or naked

Under layers of garments

It’s a wonder how his cloths’re becoming on his body on which

The sun shines on his moonlit skin

And his hands

Those hands

And the legs

And the back

And the hair

Sitting on the shoulder tips

به ناز

And the moonlit face

به ناز

And the moonlit تن

به ناز

کفل ِگرد ِ ماه ِ کوچک ِ گرد

به ناز

And the doped balls

Dosing off hanging

به ناز

And sleepy dizzy dick

Wobbling

Hanging

Flirting

Naked

Nude under layers

Of garment

And here

My head

My tired drunken smoking coughing crying head

Wobbling

Tipped to the side

On my shoulders,

Turns hungry around

And he

Standing naked under layers of garments

Nude

A never present sun shines

On his skin

اخمالو اندکی، اندکی به ناز

می چرخد

وا می کند

His beautiful mouth, shuts his beautiful eyes, we’re nowhere here is nowhere to be,

Sings, or he is sung by his song

خسته ام، حیرت کرده ام، از دست می روم، مست

I drink a little more

And blame it on the bottle when I see

A single stem of Jasmine, or

A tall Lily of the Valley, or

An evergrand ever-ruthless tree

Sit by me, shake his head:

To whatever, whatever, whatever

And leans his head

به دیوار

Not on my knees, and lets go

زیر لباس

لخت، لخت لخت

I am god if I am not

Ripping shirts and pants off

Him

To bare him

To bear him

Whole

To swallow the dick whole while his hands

Hold my head tight so I don’t swallow him whole

.
Saghi Ghahraman
Owen Sound, Ontario 2004

 

Your skin is mine by rights.

And so is the smell of it.

And when your skin matures into the lips, the line distinguishing lips from the rest, is also mine.

And when skin is pouting, swollen into a pair of luscious lips, the sight of the pout is mine.

And when skin reaches the rim of lids holding your eyeballs, the crows’ feet under your magnificent eyes is mine.

And when skin seeps up to the hairline, anywhere over the area of your fragile skull it covers, is mine.

And when from up there spreads down and drapes round your shoulders; underarms; small of the back; your ass, the whole mound; thighs, down to the shins, the sole of your foot faced-up, all those gently wiggling toes, it’s mine.

Where the skin curves up beneath your nails to come out on the other side, it’s mine, by rights.

You share with me what’s yours.
I will be gentle. Wont tear it open. Not even when dead drunk.
.

MY love,
What’s under your skin

.
Saghi Ghahraman
King & Dufferin Toronto 2009