Poor king,
with your mangy mane,
frayed dull claws, and clouded eyes.
Look here: I’ve brought your favorite,
a deer leg dripping in blood so warm
it steams the cool night air.
frayed dull claws, and clouded eyes.
Look here: I’ve brought your favorite,
a deer leg dripping in blood so warm
it steams the cool night air.
Aren’t you
hungry?
What happened to your fight,
you terrifying figure,
you dethroned Shah of Shahs?
What happened to your fight,
you terrifying figure,
you dethroned Shah of Shahs?
How sadly you
lie there
like a poor reproduction
of your once glorious image
woven into a carpet,
the strands of silken thread
more threatening to boys’ hands
that feed the loom
than your real-life rotting teeth.
like a poor reproduction
of your once glorious image
woven into a carpet,
the strands of silken thread
more threatening to boys’ hands
that feed the loom
than your real-life rotting teeth.
Tr. Roger
Sedarat. Khavari is a young Iranian poet; this poem is not-quite-discreetly addressed
to the current as well as the past rulers of his country.
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