مجید نفیسی :

تو را می‌بینم که به او می‌نگری
در غسالخانه‌ی غمزده‌ی شهرت
جایی که دودکشها آسمان را سیاه کرده‌اند
و فقر در رخت چرکینش سوت‌زنان می‌گذرد.

قطره‌ی اشکی شدم آنجا
که از چشمهای زیبای تو فرو‌افتاد
بر دهان دوخته‌اش
و تن‌از‌هم‌دریده‌اش
و فریادی شدم
از گلوی بسته‌ات
وقتی که او را در تابوت سیاهش بردند
تا به دهان بی‌شرم خاک بگذارند.

آیا از مادرش پرسیدی
که اولین قدم را کی برداشت
و نخستین واژه‌اش چه بود
و اولین لبخندش به که بود؟
آخرین فریادش را هنوز می‌توان شنید
وقتی که خدای جنگ
مسلسلی در دستش نهاد
و او را به جبهه فرستاد:
” بکش یا کشته شو!”

می‌دانم که تو را دوست داشت
و مهربانی چشمهایش را صیقل داده بود
کی اولین بار او را بوسیدی
و آخرین بار با کدام رویا
او را بدرقه کردی؟

To a Soldier’s Wife

by Majid Naficy

I see you looking at him
In a sad mortuary in your town
Where the chimneys have darkened the sky
And poverty passes whistling
In its dirty suit.

There, I became a drop of tear
Falling from your beautiful eyes
Onto his sutured mouth
And his torn body
And I became a mournful cry
From your tightened throat
As his casket was carried away
And placed into the shameless ground.

Did you ask his mother
When he took his first step
And what was his first word
And who got his first smile?
His last cry can still be heard
When God of War
Put a machine gun in his hands
And sent him to the battlefield:
“Kill! Or be killed!”

I know that he loved you
And tenderness had polished his eyes.
When did you kiss him first
And for the last time
With what dream
Did you send him off?