I got your name
From wheats...
Getting your eyes
From poppy flowers and the sun...
My mother still sings
Over my head...
Over the threeyearold shirt...
Millions of stars and white almond blossoms,
Growing side by side in your black hair...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
We were created from dust...
Why don't we flourish?!
The walnut tree smiled at us...
Bright,
The water is...
Bright,
The air is...
Knitting my heart
In the middle of the wind...
My heart is suspended
With her moving red scarf...
The walnut tree smiled again
It had dried out...
We cried together...
Two teardrops from me...
Two teardrops from walnut tree...
We cried together...
Two teardrops from me...
Two teardrops from walnut tree...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
Knitting your dress
To play with white and fluffy clouds...
Dancing with rainbow...
Because I know
All the *****
Are fertilized in the
Same short moments of
Happiness...
I don't know about you...
But I will die one day,
With my young,
Lush,
And beautiful *******...
The olive branches grew old...
They wore beautiful clothes
On me...
Clothes that were not for me anymore...
They have changed the color of the sky...
The thousands balloons
Of mine...
The thousands balloons
Of yours...
The balloons,
Popping among thighs...
Until the children are born sad...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
Comb your hair...
They have not been braided for a long time...
You were running...
Running to the end of the blue scarf...
They have taken your picture
You were a photo...
Oh my eyes...!
My feelings are left somewhere...
In the circle of big rops that I jumped...
Spotted hair in the sunlight...
I didn't hear our laughter
The clothes were soft...
My sister and I will not die?!
Can we play as long as we want?!
And hot August is Autumn for me...
The Autumn winds,
Blowing in my flesh...
The Autumn clouds,
Moving inside myself...
Keeping your childhood's memory...
Your drawing book...
Your green balloons...
Stars and your alphabet
In my womb...
The seeds of your
White jasmine flowers
Are blossoming from my *******...
And I'm pregnant with
All your eyes...
Oh the eyes of the
Wild chrysanthemum!
Oh the eyes of the
Wild chrysanthemum!
Even death will not be my freedom...


نامت را از گندم ها گرفته ام
چشم هایت را
از گل های شقایق و خورشید
هنوز مادرم بالای سرم
آواز می خواند
...بالای پیراهن سه سالگی
از لا به لای موهای سیاهت
میلیون ها شکوفه ی سفید بادام و ستاره شکفته اند
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
از خاک آفریده شدیم
گل چرا ندهیم!؟
...درخت گردو به ما خندید
...آب روشن است
...هوا روشن
قلبم، را بافتم
در میان باد
در تکان خوردن های روسری خواهرم
روسری اش سرخ بود
درخت گردو خندید
او را دیدم
خشک شده بود
...ما باهم گریه کردیم
دو قطره اشک از من
دو قطره اشک از درخت گردو
...ما باهم گریه کردیم
دو قطره اشک از من
دو قطره اشک از درخت گردو
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
پیراهن ات را بافته ام
تا ابرهای سفید و پنبه ای بازی کنی
با رنگین کمان برقصی
چون می دانم تمام تخمک ها
در میان همان لحظه های
کوتاهِ شادمانی
...بارور می شوند
تو را نمی دانم
اما من، یک روز
با سینه های جوان، شاداب
و زیبایم خواهم مرد
...شاخه های زیتون پیر می شوند
لباس های زیبا به تنم کرده اند
لباس هایی که برای خودم نبود
...رنگ آسمان را عوض کرده اند
هزار بادکنک تو
هزار بادکنک من
،بادکنک ها
میان ران های پا می ترکند
...بچه ها غمگین به دنیا می آیند
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
موهایت را شانه کن
خیلی وقت است که دیگر گیس نمی شوند
...تو می دویدی
در انتهای شالی آبی رنگ
تصویرت را ثبت کرده اند
...عکس بودی
...چشمانم
...احساس من جایی مانده است
...در دایره ی طناب های بزرگ که پریدم
...موهایی مقطع در نورِ خورشید
خنده هامان را نشنیدم
لباس ها لطیف بود
من و خواهرم می توانیم نمی ریم!؟
تا هروقت که دلمان خواست بازی کنیم!؟
...و مرداد گرم برای من پائیز است
در جسم من می وزد
...بادهای پائیز
در من حرکت می کنند
...ابرهای پائیز
در رَحِم خاطرات بچگی هایت را نگه می دارم
دفتر نقاشی و بادبادک های سبزت را
ستاره ها و حروف الفبایت را
،دانه ی گل یاست
...از نوک پستان هایم شکفته است
و تمام چشم هایت را باردارم
!آخ چشم های گل آهار
!آخ چشم های گل آهار
...حتی مرگ هم آزادی من نخواهد بود

Women were made to roar.
So don't tell us to calm down.
We'll shake and howl,
And then stand proud
As we fix each other's crowns.

Women were made to speak.
So don't silence us when we scream.
We'll stomp and rave,
And then release
The lioness within- Strong & Brave.

Women were made to lead.
So don't pretend we won't.
We'll rise and march,
And carry on fiercely,
Every sister rooted in her strength.

Women were made to bleed.
So don't act like we are weak.
We'll shed our skin,
And be renewed,
Ready to roar again.
©KSS 4/2020

<>

the supply of words is not inexhaustible

neither are the combinations thereof;

what is inextricably true, of these two linkages

that is not exhaustive, is my endless delight,

in finding the ones that I’ve yet to contemplate

till you brought them waving to my eyes,

so as far as I’m concerned, you originate

delight daily, and that is the spark you create

making every day, the eighth day of creation of the world.





Sat Aug 22
2020

That peanutbutter sandwich
Looks so good
Oodles of nuts and crunch
Seeping out of homemade bread
A glass of cold milk
To wash it down
Celery sticks and carrots
Green as grass
Orange as the sun
A Shiny red apple
Looks like it's been polished
And ready to bite
Napkins for sticky fingers
And juicy hands
You said you would share
I didn't have to ask
You already made it
Just for me
Let's eat our sandwich together
Drinking our milk
Crunching our veggies together
Letting the juice
Drip down from our chin
Wipe off our hands
And share our time together

Angels all around
Whispering sweetly to me.
Through the branches and the breeze,
Through this Magnolia Tree.
I stand and look up in awe,
The beauty and strength so serene.
My Angels still whispering,
With every bird and every bee.
The message so discreet,
To any human eye.
But loud and clear it's ringing,
Aligned in heartbeat with mine.
Subtle, yet so unknown.
Loud, but whispering gently:
Surrender. Surrender. Surrender.
Completely.
©KSS 3/2018

If I see it
then it is

If I hear it
then it is

If I taste it
then it is

If I read it
then it's
a different
story