DEAD-END "Ahmad Shāmlou"

DEAD-END (1980)


They sniff your breath

in case you have uttered
a word of love;

they sniff at your heart

These are the strange times,
my precious.

And love itself is whipped and hanged
at a public crossroads:

better to hide your love
in a cellar.

In the twists and turns of
this cold dead-end
they keep their fires alight
fuelled with songs
and poems;

don't try to think:

these are strange times,
my precious.

He who knocks on the door
at nightfall,
has come to destroy your light:

Better to hide your light
in a cellar.

Look, there are the butchers
guarding the roads,
their axes dipped in blood:

these are strange times,
my precious.

Smiles are sealed onto lips,
songs are stuffed into
gaping mouths:

better to hide your joy
in a cellar.

Canaries are barbecued
of wood-fires of lily
and jasmine:

these are strange times,
my precious.

Lucifer, crazed with victory,
feasts on the fruits of our
mourning:

better to hide your God,
in a cellar.

"Ahmad Shāmlou; (December 12, 1925 — July 24, 2000) was a Persian poet, writer, and journalist"