يلدا Yalda

يلدا

درد می کردم
از تغاره ی خمير که دست هايت
در آن گم می شدند
از دراز تکه ای
که با آن غوره گی پستان هايت را
مهار می کردی 
 
از پس دادن بچه
از پاره گی کنج لبت
درد می کردم 
 
سنگريزه ای به سايه ات کافی بود
تا خون رفته از لب ها را
با هر چه نم که در دهان داشتم
بر صورت سنگ انداز تُف کنم 
 
گويه ها بر دهانت خشکيدند
سال های دير رفته
خاک و دود گشتند 
 
کُند پا کشيدند
ولی پا در هوا ماندند
شب های خانه ی پدری
 

Yalda

It pained me
to see your arms disappearing
into a bowl of dough;
to see you use
a long strip of cloth to bind
breasts like ripening grapes.
 
Seeing you give up your child,
the corner of your mouth ripped,
pained me.
 
One pebble thrown at your shadow
was enough to take the blood on your lips,
whatever saliva I had left, and spit
in the face of whoever threw it.
 
Words have dried up in your mouth.
Years have slowly passed,
turned into dust and smoke.
 
They dragged their feet as they went
but the nights in your father's house
were left hanging.
 

Yalda

I ached
at [because of?] the bowl of dough in which
your arms were lost [disappeared],
at the long piece of cloth
with which you reined in
your newly-ripened breasts.
 
At your giving up a child,
at the torn corner of your lips
I ached.
 
A pebble thrown at your shadow[1] was enough
for me to [want to avenge] the blood from your lips
by taking whatever moisture in my mouth
and spitting it in the fact of the stone-thrower.
 
Words dried up in your mouth
The long years
turned into dust and smoke.
 
They dragged their feet slowly 
but remained with one foot in the air [remained unresolved],
the nights in your father's house.
 

Yalda: a girl’s name and also the longest night of the year.

One pebble thrown at your shadow: a euphemism for malicious back-biting or gossiping.

Original Poem by

Shakila Azizzada

Translated by

Zuzanna Olszewska with Mimi Khalvati Language

Dari

Country

Afghanistan