The Poems of Mohsen Hosseinkhani

1.

Whatever I torture this history,

It does not yield.

In the body of that black,

How many broken ribs of his father are suffering?

In the chest of this red,

How many bullets

Have killed the name of his tribe?

The throat of Nishapur

Is still in the claws of Genghis,

And we still

Eat bread

From that mill

That turns with the river of blood.

History does not yield,

I do not teach it a lesson.

I stretch my hand to the blue veins,

I feel

The flow of centuries

Under my skin.

Every century that has fallen in the ditches,

Fallen beside the trees of the street,

Fallen in the recesses of ruins.

Every century

Is a tainted syringe,

And each time

It plunges its needle into our languor.

* Footnote about Genghis Khan and His Attack on Nishapur Genghis Khan, the founder of the Mongol Empire, launched a devastating campaign across Asia during the early 13th century. In 1220, after the Mongols faced resistance in Nishapur, they retaliated brutally, leading to the city’s destruction. The attack on Nishapur not only resulted in a large number of casualties but also marked a significant moment in the Mongol conquest. The city's destruction symbolized the broader impact of Genghis Khan’s invasions, which caused immense loss of life and cultural upheaval across the region. The poem reflects the haunting memory of that violence and the ongoing trauma experienced through the lens of history.

2.

We sleep together every night,

We wake up darker each day,

And I love you,

A shared word

That we didn’t know

How to turn on our tongues.

Our expectation of each other

Is the expectation of a flashlight’s brightening,

Which in its heart

Two batteries

Lie sleeping in reversed positions.

3.

Love cannot be unseen

I have seen

the gaze of two lovers

at a funeral

tears and shame together.

But

with every dear one

buried in the earth,

a piece of the heart goes silent.

For the heart of that little girl, I cried much,

sometimes for her doll,

sometimes for her mother,

sometimes for her sister.

The bombs did not allow

her father to call her name.

The bombs

hasten the earth’s hunger.

Ah…

which man will come

to fill

the empty spaces of the dolls?

4.

The earth exists,

We are in non-existence,

Spinning around.

I think of the wind

That shakes the branches,

Of destiny

That holds us.

I doubt the law of gravity

And do not understand

The relationship of love and play,

Birth and death.

I doubt myself,

To…

And I take refuge in you,

In your eyes,

In your hands,

In your lips,

And I savor

The remnants of life’s sweetness.

I think of the wind

That has a quarrel with your scarf,

And has realized

The distance between disbelief and faith

Is no more than a single hair.

Words swirl in my mind:

Love,

Death,

Birth,

Play.

Play comes to a halt

Beside death.

Love

Sits

Next to life