Saturday, January 02, 2010

She told me

Soraya Fallah

Name of the poem: She told me

I look at my surrounding

All darkness, silence

I open the window

Make my pupil bigger, and bigger

Almost all my green part of iris

Turn to black

Maybe I see a light


Tears are my pharos,

A sea of water in pot of my eyes is lighthouse

What my mother said?

What she recommends was

A little patience

She said:

There is a hope in each disappointment

There is a light after darkness

I look at the rosary on the ground

I see a light

Am I hallucinating?

A GLOWWORM struggle with the clay

She is moving,

Make its surrounding gazery

All the rosary is full of them

My heart is biting,

The pupil getting smaller

the green part of my iris getting bigger

sky is full of star

ground is full of light

I know it’ll be a down some day

I know it is nigh,

But will be a day after each nigh

My mother told me;

Glowworm is spot of spring

It is sign of morning

The end of darkening


I recieved this comment from Dr. Ali KILIÇ who is a writer and my colleague in International Kurdish pen. I would like to publish it. His points of view always important for me...


Genève 25-01-2010

Dear Soraya

Since I have your poem I searched for a while you write.
I think
To find your poem must know the depth of your soul dear Soraya. While I never meet you or speak. You've finished writing me. While I favor a dialogue with you and my countrymen.
You make references to light and darkness in your poem. I think before the light and darkness are embodied in the sacred book, they were the foundation of philosophical thought of Zoroaster in 1276 BC.

How to establish the link between the eternal time and space fantasy in your soul thirst for love in the face of despair is death.

But you take the concrete symbol of the sacred to open your window. I think you open your heart instead of the window to the sacred.

Not everything can be changed but your soul is so fragile that upsets your environment.
But you're not on your own vision at a time when everything is mixed, even the feeling of sense knowledge as ecstasy between the cosmic universe and your own world of love. There are no measures are no limits of hope.
Everything changes with you, hope to love you back to the dialectic of love. Which side should take heart if your sensitive side in perpetual motion between light and darkness as love and death?

Here is my answer

But like always like to not die

In the arms of each other embracing a moment
All before mingling their dust forever,
Do the same oath:

Always! A bold word that the heavens aging
Intend to speak with astonishment,
And repeat pale lips
And who will freeze.

You who live so little, why this promise
A surge of hope away from your heart,
Vain challenge that you throw none in the intoxication
In a moment of happiness?

Lovers around you a voice inflexible
Exclamations everything that arises: "Love and die down here!"
The death is relentless and unfeeling sky;
You will not escape.

Well! as necessary, without trouble or murmur
Armed with this same love that you get drunk
And lost in the bosom of the immense Nature
Do so, and die!

But like always like to not die


1 comment:

Soreya Fallah said...

I love your poem Dr. Klic