kurdishpoetry

Slemani in the Snow

A special poem by one of Kurdistan’s greatest writers of all time- Tawfiq Mahmoud Hamza (1867–1950), better known as Pîremêrd titled “Slemani in the Snow” (translated).

Enjoy.

Slemani in the Snow

In the morning I awoke to snow everywhere,

Slemani city was the bride with silver veils in her hair.

We had waited so long for the snow in the night,

I’ll snowball it all, even though my hairs gone white.

I remember the snow lions we rode with no reigns,

In shadows that froze until a ripe summer came.

How superb that white dress and Goizha’s heights!

Lovelier than the sky with its blue on this white.

The cloth of angels in the sky is as white as this snow,

Our angel was loveliest, but we are betrayed now.

With each snowflake of gods shade that falls,

These are angels amongst us until the chaos calls.

The sky’s simple sun poured over Gla Zarda Mountain,

Sun glistening snow created a god made fountain.

The white cheeks of our city glistens with jewels

Angels of Qaff Mountain couldn’t have such attire.

Melting milk icicles from the melting frost heaves

As the ice dances through trees and leaves.

Broken Roads

They embark this road, as only the ground welcomes their trail.

Crusts of earth swirl around damaged souls, sat in dated machines, avoiding barrels of kings.

Careless reflections and glances begin to toss and turn.

These roads, like waves, swallow them whole.

Solitude roads diverged into the yellow and green, proving magnificent and cunning in sight.

An unavoidable journey's end to a new journey that perhaps has just begun.

Damaged souls, survivors of bombs and chaos, not once spared by our broken roads

Pomegranate Stained Skirts

Pomegranate stained skirts, ruby lined necks,
Ignored pulses, forced to endure on intruders beds.

Innocence stolen by the galloping black stained with crimson red,
As daughters were transformed into the living dead.

History of a vibrant land began to sway,
Like a burning peacock’s tail, colours were led astray.

Charred hope fled up a mountain or into a cave,
Death charmed both, amidst a cruel heat wave.

Wailing echoes, cry songs of a crippled heart,
As newlyweds were crushed and forced apart.

A foreign husband sworn in every hour,
Filling trenches of damaged wombs, unable to flower.

Profane shackles comfort her feet,
As lungs yearn for a rope,
An exit, twisted from dirty bed sheets.

The silent sphere, bursting in bites of doubt,
As humanity began to weep and pour out.

How the faith in their fickle neighbours burned,
As fathers waited for their daughters to be returned.