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The Splendour of Iran
Iran Travel

Payvand's Iran Literature ...

Poem: The view from above

By Leylanaz Shajii

In between the green curves,
the road meanders through your ribs
as you walk
with your mouth wide open
to eat the air
and the different shades of green and gray.

Throw your head back and squint your eyes. How would you look from above?

Bits of fire, carried by the wind, vanished in the air, seven astronauts shattered. It's romantic, you say, to so suddenly die after having seen the space far beyond the sky.

But from their shuttle, you think, far from the green turns, the orbit, and the skies, did they see the children die like threads of black ants crushed under feet, or like some flies squashed under a red swatter on a hot summer day. Perhaps the astronauts caught a brief glimpse of the miniature corpses spread around the ochre dry lines on the other side of the green. And perhaps the sight changed the color of their hearts right before they, too, died. Who knows what goes on inside.

From here, amid the fresh hills and the crisp space, stuck to the gravel road and to the blood rushing in veins, dead bodies are numbers mute astronomical statistics thrown numbly in between black and white prints, and devoid of stories.

How do we measure lives in between the green curves? You tap your feet, and your neck is stiff, why is it that you don?t hear the sound of all the other breaths?

You open your mouth wider to take in the horizon, the planets and the extra space and you start to run with your arms open in an embrace and let the road slice through your guts.

Women Without Men : A Novella

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