My Roots, a Poem by Rosa Jamali

A Poem by Rosa Jamali
Translated from original Persian into English the Author

You see how the Milky Way drove on my nerves
With my bronchus, I was plowing the vague path of Being
To the essence of cloves and to the roots of chicory
I'm sticking firmly to the River Ganges;
From my roots through the circular core of the Earth
Resting on its horizontal side, soft and light sand grows
Whose lava has turned you blind the other hour?
What you have been cooking in frozen dishes is the whole mass of all tropical lands.
And you have been running all the way on the meridians
And this wounded volcano
Has become dormant by your wrist
And you have mended the Earth
With fingers just marinated in mint and vinegar

Oh!
The lines have been mixed and overlapped
Pity!
At that very first look
It hadn't even crossed my mind
And your voice wouldn't be heard by me
While there has been a snowfall since yesterday,
No news of the waves and the sand!
I was tiptoeing on the left side of the silk road
Stagnant lagoons and morbid lawns
Its memory has been engraving on a metal box
In which stormy stems and the railroad and these rails
Are all lumbering!

It's a complicated path though it looks simple;
Sticking to the cells which have decreased their tumor-like growth.