I see myself kneeling in front of the opening of a box truck, on the side of the dirt border road. crouched on the floor, desperate as could be…
I beg her to leave the truck, with my eyes, with my tears, with my extended arms…
I tell her
I planted flowers
There are no dogs
No guns
Come out
I planted flowers
Fear
And an aversion to self appointed heroes
Is all I can feel from her
Ripples of her fear shakes me
It shakes everything
I feel dissociated again. I’m feeling attacked. I’m not wanting to be a hero. I want to be my own hero. However far away from her. I, at least, was an unwilling, unattentive witness to her pain. So I, the witness, will go there and be there with her. I can’t undo the pain but I will sit with her. I will hold her hand and I will listen to her cries, her screams & I will share the tears with her. I will cry with her.
من درد مشترک ام”
1“مرا فریاد کن
I will plant more flowers
I will plant trees
I will plant willows
magical willows that
will have a large shade
for you to rest under
when you leave the dark metal box
I will plant flowers
where there was corn
I will plant flowers
where the roots of pumpkins
trapped your ankles
I will plant flowers everywhere
And willows
You can rest anywhere
There will be
No borders
No dirt road
There will be no dogs
No barking
No teeth
There will be no guns
No yelling
No questions
that you don’t have the answers to
There will only be flowers
And the birds will sing
It won’t be dark
You won’t have to be afraid
of little red dots
It will be sunny
With all the flowers
I plant for you
It’s not dark
There is no truck
Just flowers and willow trees
for you
I plant them
for you.
- I am the common pain
Scream me.
Poem: Common Love (Book: Fresh Air) by Ahmad Shamlou
Full poem and translation:
Common Love – عشق عمومی ↩︎