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The Rooster (poem): I was walking in Darabad village one morning

By Leylanaz Shajii, Tehran


I was walking in Darabad village one morning, a backpack hanging from my shoulders, and felt all the gazes-from the chadori (veiled) women to the construction workers turned on me.  Intimidated like a misplaced tourist, I quickened my pace, my head hung in shame, and met a rooster on the way…




The Rooster


In Dar-Abad one morning bright

a “warrior” rooster poked my eye.

It knew, it knew, the rooster knew: through my

swaying camera  carefree bounce  stupid smile

slipped the truth


and the smart rooster under a dry tree

picking crumbs spread by the next door bakery

turned to me

furiously fixed my eyes, its plumage burning red it

poked my eye

the strange backpack jerked  rolled

early worker men shaking laughing


their lose pants wavering with the morning breeze

my hand cupping a palpitating eye

and the rooster, its feathers fluffed out

ready to sing.



... Payvand News - 6/20/05 ... --

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