AHMAD SHAMLOU
T H I S S O R T O F DY I N G … AHMAD SHAMLOU Tra n slated by Sholeh Wolpé
I want to die the sleep of acacias. Dreamily in the short-lived breeze that passes, hesitantly to die the sleep of the acacias. ¤ I want to fly in the heavy breaths of petunias. In summer gardens, damp and warm at the evening’s first hours take flight in the breaths of petunias. ¤ Even if the blue iris of a knife blooms on my chest — I’d like to die the sleep of acacias in their last breath, and in the halls decorated with sash windows become the weighted passage of petunias at seven in the evening.
137
