My Poem Has
the Scent of Nadia
by Majid
Naficy
in memory of Nadia
Anjuman
My bread looks like Dari
poetry1
When I light the oven
early morning.
I find its starter in my
dreams
And I knead it between
asleep and waking.
My wheat comes from the
land of Toos
Where Ferdowsi spread its
seeds,
And my poppy seeds from
the valley of Yamgan
Where Naser-Khosrow
planted their roots,
And my oven-pebbles from
the banks of Amoo River
Where Roodaki called them
soft as silk,
And my firewood from the
grove of Balkh reeds
Where Rumi kept the fire
of his love.
But when I take it out of
the oven
It looks like a Sangak
bread
Shaped as a Woman in her
chadour,
Shouting voicelessly:
"It's me,
The poet of Dark
Flower,
Ravaged by my
stepped-husband in Herat."
My bread looks like Dari
poetry
Perfumed with the scent
of Nadia.
If you want it hot and
fresh
Put your hand in the
fire.
November
15, 2005
1Dari Persian
poetry began in the 9th
century in the great
Khorasan region. Today this
area is divided among Iran,
Afghanistan, Tajikistan and
some Turkish central Asian
countries. The four
classical Persian poets
whose names are mentioned in
the poem as well as Nadia
Anjuman all come from that
region.
