To not Suicide


A knife,
Only one bullet
A glass of poison with the taste of honey
A rope and only one ring on the window of my room
Its enough, from now and on neither worrying will reach the dust rising from my feet, nor fear will hit top of my head with the back of its shoes
There will be no snake-like road leading me to the human's kingdom

But what an heartbreak..!
After that, there will be no bird making my looks full of flying
No garden introducing me to a new seedling
One knife and I will start dancing more beautiful than a fish
One bullet and my neck will fall down more pampered than a flower
One glass of poison and I will turn into a sleeping cat
One Rope and I will learn flying much more better than a bird
***
A rope and only one ring of it on the window of my room
A glass of poison with the taste of honey
Only one bullet
A knife,
And my shoulder will no loner touch the rough shoulder of any sadness
No sadness will shake my shoulder
If I sing any song, I will not bother any one
If they sing any song, it will not make me sad
But i am only afraid that from now and on no sun will wake me up in a summer morning
No fly to annoy me and
I will not see a half empty glass of water over my head
The smell of a piece of watermelon left on a tray will not come over me
I will be afraid of that when a poem will not wake my senses up by the soft feathers of its wings
I am worry about that Vulnerability
That I will not see a clay wall a gain
An adventurous taxi driver will not throw the dirty water on the street to my clothes
A funny butcher will not sell a kilo of full-of-bones meet to me
I will not hear a salesman shouting....Come to buy these cucumber with flower
How awful for me to die and
A crazy man will no longer call me stupid
A girl will not tell me
hey old man why you are looking at me?
A doctor will not ask me to take an ultra sound check
A Sensuous worker will not call me"awake"
A tailor will not say: only one button left
A teaـman will not ask:
Strong and sweet, or light and less sugar?
A smuggler will not deceive me to be returned back with a tightened heart and rusty blood
I am afraid to die and
I will not hear a song from a high-cherished worker while caring a box of cement
I will not see a child coming out to the street with her mother's shoes.
A teenager stopping a girl of his neighborhood
An old man narrating his adventures moving his prayer beads
***
One knife and I will be a singular number, singular and alone,
A bullet and I will be the sacrifice of my own craziness
A glass of poison and the story of hearts will turn into legends
A rope, some shaking and a purple silence
***
A worn out rope
A glass of expired poison
A weak bullet
And a broken knife
I will put them over my head
A rope
And a glass of poison
A bullet and a knife
Within a fruit nylon I will throw them into the garbage.

Barzan Hastiar
Translated by: Vienna Salam

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