Love is Stainless

Majid Naficy
May 4, 2005
iranian.com
PERSIAN TEXT
 
I. On the Bridge
I lay down on the wooden bridge
With my hands pillowing my head
And your fingers caressing my face

And soon the cup of my ears
Overflows with your sweet murmurs
The water seeps into my veins
And I am carried away
Like a floating barge
On a mysterious river
Passing by a lavish grove
Full of humming birds and impatience
And the familiar scent of grass.

What is our destination?
On this fast flowing water
I have no other compass
But your caressing fingers
-- May 12, 2001
...........................................

II. I Hope the Water Returns
When the water returns
I will shave
And take a shower

The house is silent
The pipes are empty
And I hear the sound of my heart

I hope the water returns
Before the doorbell rings
June 5, 2001
...........................................

III. Empty Baskets
In the shadow of daybreak
I look at the empty baskets
That you have left on the kitchen counter

I fill one with fresh pine cones
That you have gathered from a remote canyon
And the other with black sea shells:
They echo the sounds of deep oceans

But there remains one basket
Still gazing at me
Full of hidden secrets
-- April 22, 2002
...........................................

IV. Coffee Maker
My percolator
Has a white trunk
And four black legs
When I click the switch
It gently trots
And I see you sitting next to me
On a leather-cushion buggy
Watching the red cherry blossoms
On the fragrant cobblestone roads
-- April 22, 2002
...........................................

V. Anxious Heart
What does this empty nutshell tell you?
"It tells me of a grave stone
A forthcoming death on the road,
A bed without a mate
And a terracotta roof-top
With lightless windows."
And what is this red stain
Congealed on the oak tabletop?
"It is the sign of a bleeding cut
A still fresh wound
The stigmata of the Saint of Assisi."
And what are these wooden coasters
Scattered over the cryptic lines of the table?
And the spiral corkscrew
Waiting for your fingers
Like an open fountain-pen?
.....
Oh, you, who find bad omens in everything
Get up and remove the empty wine glasses
And clear your anxious heart
With a sponge and some cleansing gel.
She will arrive at her house
And cheer you up with a single call
You will see her at your place
Sitting at this table again
And you will read her this poem
While sipping your red wine.
-- September 3, 2002
...........................................

VI. Washing
Only the sound of the washer remains
And our clothes are losing
Their fragrant memories of the night:
The scent of firewood and fresh grass
The stains of wine on your blouse
And the blackberries on my cuffs
The fingerprints of morning dew on your shoulders
And the muddy mark of mother earth on my back
Rolling, rolling under the fading stars
And suddenly the big red ball of the sun!

Let it turn around, around
and mingle our clothes together
Love is stainless
And its clean shirt
Always shines
-- October 13, 2002
...........................................

VII. Bougainvillea
You and I planted this flower
And placed it on my balcony
So when you are not here
I find your living image
On its purple paper petals.

I tilt the red plastic pitcher
To water our bougainvillea.
It touches the flower's long stem
And peeks under her skirt
She is standing on tiptoe
Peering out over the railing
Waiting for your return.

Suddenly, the empty pitcher
slips away from my hand
And hits the wooden floor
I hear my own voice
Inside its hollow sound.
-- July 11, 2003
PERSIAN TEXT

About
Majid Naficy's books include Muddy Shoes; Father and Son and Modernism and Ideology in Persian Literature. He lives in Los Angeles.