The Fish

I think

my heart has never been

this much

warn and red:

 

I feel

in the worst moments of this deathly night

many thousand wellsprings of sun

in my heart

flows out of confidence;

 

I feel

in every inch and corner of this despair desert

many thousand merry forests

suddenly

sprout out of earth.

 

 

Oh my lost confidence, my elusive fish,

who slides through the ponds of mirror!

I am a pure lake, now! With the magic of love;

from the ponds of mirror find a way to me!

 

 

I think

never before

my hand

has been this much big and gay:

 

I feel

in my eyes

on the ruddy fount of teardrops

breathes the decline-less sun of a song;

 

I feel

in every vein of mine

with every beating of my heart

now

the waking chimes of a caravan sounds.

 

 

One night she came to me in the nude

like a water sprite

in her breasts two fish and in her hands a mirror;

her wet hair moss smelling, like moss, together weaved.

 

I screamed out of despair:

“_Oh my gained confidence, I will not let you leave!”

 

Ahmad Shamloo poems
Photo by Vadim Stein

Ahmad Shamlou “The Fish” (Original title; «ماهی»)
A poem by Ahmad Shamlou
Translated by Sina Ghasemi
Featured image by Vadim Stein
First published in Derafsh-e Mehr
The Fish
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