With a few simple words he said
“I hope you’re not tired my love”
And I was so happy that someone
understood my weariness
it felt like a sugar cube melting in my heart.
…………………………….
The Ancient Mustache Hair by Mahnaz Badihian (Oba)
Even though my lover
with strong green hands
was never born
And I didn’t have a chance
to nap under his kind skin
during my daily burden
I always saw my lover in my dreams
with his smiling eyes filled
with loving words which slowly
seeped toward my secluded porch
from the plains of tranquility.
His breath always smelled
of chrysanthemums
and his body was filled
with silent shadows
I always saw visions of my lover
with his sunburnt skin and
long, luscious black hair
and that thousand year old hair strand
on his mustache.
With a few simple words he said
“I hope you’re not tired my love”
And I was so happy that someone
understood my weariness
it felt like a sugar cube melting in my heart.
Where is my lover? Maybe right before his birth,
from the trauma caused by a wicked demon,
he died in a pool of his mother’s blood.
Now with my pale skin I am with my daughter
who has never experienced my suffering of womanhood
And I am with my son who I’ve always
deceived into thinking that I’m not
waiting for my imaginary lover.
Now, everyday I return home
with a bouquet of chrysanthemums.
– Translated from the Persian by Mahnaz Badihian & Andres Alfaro