مادر‌بزرگ در سانتامونیکا – شعری از مجید نفیسی

Grandma in Santa Monica

by Majid Naficy

“Do you live alone?”

“No!

I am living with God”

Up there: one, two, three

In a room filled with scents of spices

And the familiar sound of bubbling soup.

In the morning, I go to the House of the Elderly

Where women draw pictures

And men play chess.

I sit at the samovar

And serve tea with cardamom.

When my grandson comes here at noon

I cook rice with barberry chicken.

Sometimes we go to the gym

He lifts weights upstairs

And I exercise in the water.

The light that comes from the skylight

Takes me with it to Tehran.

Every day from dawn to dusk

I worked in a workshop

Tying knots and pulling bobbins

And shedding tears for my children.

Fahimeh burned herself for love

Saeed was hit on the road

Taqi lost a leg in the war

And Babak was seven years in Evin Prison

With the shrapnel in his body.

Wednesdays I go to the Farmers’ Market

After shopping, I sit under a canopy

And watch people come and go

With their baskets in hand

Talking in a hundred tongues.

And then, came the day

When everything went red:

From Grandma Molook’s basket

To the carriage of her grandson, Brandon,

From strawberries of Li

To Amigo’s cherry tomatoes,

From the half-dome of a Chinese stand

To the Mexican orange bags,

From Azadeh’s anti-war fliers

To the rage of a redneck Joe,

From the donation box of battered women

To the newsletters of homeless men,

From the tambourine of streetplayers

To the sandals of pre-schoolers

Gathering around their teacher,

And suddenly death driving

In his red car boldly

With bodies of the Iranian grandma

And her American grandson

Under its bloody wheels,

And the rain pouring incessantly

Over the killed and injured

And a pair of woman’s shoes

Left on top of a car.

Today is their fourth anniversary

And I am offering noodle soup.

Look! The neighbors are coming

They want to take the elevator

To reach the thirteenth floor

And sit on the rooftop

Where it is closer to God.

They’ll  eat soup and take soup home

And remember Grandma

And her baby grandson.

July 27, 2007