Majid Naficy: My Silent Buried Treasures

In Memory of Mohammad Javad-Kalbasi

Behind the silence of the garden’s afternoons
Alongside the growing words
And in the heart of underground secrets
My silent buried treasures are waiting.

Speak to me, you roots of plum trees!
The barefoot children of summer
And the wandering lambs of fall
Could not witness.
Speak to me
From the seeds of words which soaked
Until they came to blossom
From the scent of papers which decomposed
Until they gave new life.

Did the fingers of any of you
Open the closed lips of my buried books?
Don’t ask why I did not hide them
In the secretive chests of comrades.
Their chests were torn.
I wanted the buds of doubts
To remain forever in the flowers of generations.

When I carried them from the border
If you were not there
The barefoot children were behind windows.
At Razi train station
The piercing eyes of inspectors
Could not search the depth of my eyes
And my forbidden books
Flew freely in my homeland
So they could teach passion to fly.
Today you ask the Cemetery of the Infidels
How many people have flown.

In the heart of sealed secrets
My silent buried treasures are waiting.

~~

~~~~~

Poem and translation from Persian copyright 2025 Majid Naficy

Majid Naficy is the author of many books in English and Persian including A Witness for Ezzat which Naomi Shihab Nye describes as “One of the most powerful poems in the world! Full of love and truth. And sorrow.” A longtime resident of California, Naficy was awarded a 2025 Santa Monica City artist fellowship.