در آستانه‌ى زمان – شعری از مجید نفیسی

At the Threshold of Time

In memory of Ahmad Shamlou

by Majid Naficy

Am I able to capture time

In a mass of ice?

So I must start again

When you opened the door of your office

Of your little journals for me

With your sleeves rolled up to the elbows

Smiles and the scent of printed letters.

I was crying at the threshold

Because I saw the man of my epics

Standing upright in front of me.

You said: “You, little one!

Why are you crying?”

Am I able to capture time

In a flood of alcohol?

So I must start again

When the lady of waters

Opened the door of your home for me

With hair down to her shoulders

And moved like a light shadow.

You and I sat at the window

with empty glasses and parched lips

And the thirst of years on our tongues.

You called: “Aida!

Where are you?”

But time is only time

The ice melts and drips

From the corners of my eyes,

Alcohol only floats my soul

And you remain alone

With the splendid torso of your poetry.

Your amputated legs

Is still jutting out of the earth,

Your sharpened pencils

Are still waiting for your hand

Leaning over the top of the mug

On your desk.

With each tip of a finger

That opens the leave of your fragrant books

They say: “No! the poet of our epics

Is still tall and upright

At the threshold of time.”

July 24, 2000