Majid Naficy: My Silent Buried Treasures
Speak to me, you roots of plum trees!
The barefoot children of summer
And the wandering lambs of fall
Could not witness.
Majid Naficy: A Song for Peace
Let me compose a song for peace
Beyond your phony epics.
Majid Naficy: Ah, Los Angeles
I am at peace with you.
Waiting without fear
I lean back against the bus post.
And I become lost
In the sounds of your midnight.
Majid Naficy: Ruthless Gods
I detest the world
Which has given its heart
To ruthless gods
Majid Naficy: Seven Poems During Trump
I read in Egyptian papyruses
That Truth and Falsehood were brothers.
One day Truth borrowed Falsehood’s dagger
But lost it by misfortune.
Majid Naficy: Stomach Ulcer
The night that Father packed his suitcase
To travel to America
I ran to the alley shops
And bought a package of barberry candies
Majid Naficy: Ezzat’s Last Will & A Memory of Ezzat
I want only to say that life’s beauties are never forgettable.
Majid Naficy: Every Night in this City
Every night in this city
Thousands of people sleep on the street
Majid Naficy: Dublin
Tomorrow we go to Blarney Castle
To kiss the Irish stone of eloquence.
But tonight in our warm bed
In memory of James Joyce and Nora
We will chase each other
Majid Naficy: Escape to Lesbos
In Ma’arra, the poet Abul ‘Ala
Was called a death-worthy infidel
And a thousand years after his death
His statue was beheaded.
Majid Naficy: Two Neighbors
The scent of chicken tahchin
Is wafting up to me
Through the window
And I know soon
She will knock at my door…
Majid Naficy: A Witness for Ezzat
I want to know what happened
On January 7, 1982
Half past one in the afternoon
In Evin Prison
Majid Naficy: On the Booksellers’ Street of Baghdad
I saw Mutanabbi returning from Persia.
He had heard the sound of Tigris, by the Kor River
Calling him back to Baghdad.
Majid Naficy: Stroke
It was last week
Tuesday morning at seven
When in the shower
Your right arm became numb
