It has been a long time since I updated this blog in June 2017. I have been busy since working on different things, finished my masters, got my first grant to produce my first solo show and performed in a few poetry events across Manchester.
A few days ago I had the chance to perform my multilingual poems at an event at Elizabeth Gaskell House celebrating UNESCO International Mother Language Day as part of Manchester UNESCO City of Literature events! This event organised by Commonword Cultureword.
Manchester has been successful in its bid to join UNESCO’s worldwide Creative Cities network as a City of Literature.
This is a poem I read at the event for which I received super positive feedback from the audience.
Land of my childhood
Home, my home
whenever I think about you
my hands want to change into wings ready to fly
till the horizon grows larger and larger and swallows me and I soar high and far till I reach you
I want to see you again
I want to go down the childhood alleys
to the hills covered with grapes
I’ve missed your mountains, your deserts
I still hear the lullaby my grandmother used to sing
the one that made me cry
sad stories of the past sung
so children are thankful for what they have
لالالا گل گندم، چی اومد بر سر مردم
لالالا گل پونه، بابات رفته درخونه
لالا لال گل زردم ، نبینم داغ فرزندم
our small clay home was my paradise
we had green plums and mulberry trees
we didn’t have roses like other neighbours, but it didn’t matter
because we had hens and pigeons and cats and bees
ما توی دشت ها می دویدیم و دنبال پروانه ها می کردیم
و به شاخه های درخت توت لگد می زدیم
و از آب کهریز ماهی می گرفتیم
و در قنات شنا می کردیم
و زیر آسمان پر ستاره می خوابیدیم
those hot summer days when we ran through fields
and cold summer nights when we slept on the rooftop
I have missed your mosques even though I am not a Muslim
I have missed your churches even though I am not a Christian
we have been through a lot sweetheart, me and you
you might have changed after all these years
but you have stayed faithful in my imagination
If I come back some day, will take me in?
whoever I’ve become when I return?