My Poem and Death

The seconds are still chasing us

Let’s read our poems backwards

to fool time

we’ve been ripped off anyway

now we’ve got to pay taxes for our being poet.

part-time or full-time

it makes no difference

we have risen against an eternity

that is intent upon crushing us.

A world that does not stand poets

and us,

who cannot stand the weight of the world

only words don’t betray us.

Happy corpses can make us laugh

not that we didn’t laugh at the bitter time

we, who were bitter ourselves,

although they wanted to write us sweet.

Our beginning was a nail on the coffin of our end.

We lived part-time

though our death came full-time.

 Translated by:Peyman Vahabzade