فصل چيدن تمشكها
مجید نفیسی
بار ديگر به آبشار مي رويم
تا تو تمشك بچيني
و دانه دانه به دهان من بگذاري.
من تمشكهاي سرخ و سياه را
به يك اندازه دوست دارم
چونان بوسه هاي تو:
رسيده و نارسيده.
راهي كه به آبشار مي رسد
از بيشه ها و جويبارهاي بسيار ميگذرد.
ما دست يكديگر را گرفته ايم
و با اندوه
به شاخه اي زخمي گوش مي دهيم
كه در باد ناله مي كند.
شتاب كن
شتاب كن دلدار من
كه فصل چيدن تمشكها
تند در گذر است.
۳ سپتامبر ۲۰۱۳
Here is my poem:
And part 3-E from: “Modernism and Ideology in Persian
Literature”:
The Season of Picking Raspberrie
We hike to our waterfall again
So that you can pick raspberries
And put them in my mouth, one by one.
I like red and black raspberries equally
The same as your kisses, ripe and unripe.
The path that leads to the waterfall
Passes many creeks and groves.
We are holding hands
Listening in sorrow to a wounded branch,
Moaning in the wind.
Hurry up
Hurry up my heart-holder!
The season of picking raspberries
Is quickly passing by.
September 3, 2013
Majid Naficy
So that you can pick raspberries
And put them in my mouth, one by one.
I like red and black raspberries equally
The same as your kisses, ripe and unripe.
The path that leads to the waterfall
Passes many creeks and groves.
We are holding hands
Listening in sorrow to a wounded branch,
Moaning in the wind.
Hurry up
Hurry up my heart-holder!
The season of picking raspberries
Is quickly passing by.
September 3, 2013
Majid Naficy
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