Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Bahar Tavakoli

Loneliness

When I hold its hand
I feel cold
Its heart is sorrowful as my mother's
with no one to share its sorrow
When I tend to its stories
I feel frozen all over 
It keeps worrying
About a girl dressed in white 
sent off to her marital home 
Now in a house further away 
Standing as empty
It makes no difference when I go to it
For years now
It is leaning in a kitchen corner
Cold and worried
Having nothing to eat
Except sorrow
Poor old fridge

تنهايى

تنهايى

دستش را که می گیرم
سردم می شود
دلش به اندازه ی مادرم پر است
دلخوری هایش را کسی نمی خورد
پای حرف هایش که می نشینم 
تمام تنم یخ می کند
مدام 
دلواپس دختری ست 
که با لباس سفید 
به خانه ی بخت فرستاده و حالا 
در خانه ای دورتر
خالی تر از او ایستاده
فرقی نمی کند کی به سراغش روم
سال هاست 
سرد و دلواپس
 گوشه ی آشپزخانه لمیده و جز غم 
چیزی برای خوردن ندارد 
یخچال
Close

Loneliness

When I hold its hand
I feel cold
Its heart is sorrowful as my mother's
with no one to share its sorrow
When I tend to its stories
I feel frozen all over 
It keeps worrying
About a girl dressed in white 
sent off to her marital home 
Now in a house further away 
Standing as empty
It makes no difference when I go to it
For years now
It is leaning in a kitchen corner
Cold and worried
Having nothing to eat
Except sorrow
Poor old fridge

Loneliness

When I hold its hand
I feel cold
Its heart is sorrowful as my mother's
with no one to share its sorrow
When I tend to its stories
I feel frozen all over 
It keeps worrying
About a girl dressed in white 
sent off to her marital home 
Now in a house further away 
Standing as empty
It makes no difference when I go to it
For years now
It is leaning in a kitchen corner
Cold and worried
Having nothing to eat
Except sorrow
Poor old fridge
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