Three Poems

Abstract

Three Poems by Abdulla Pashew Soccer I see Kurdistan as a soccer field, independence as a ball, plump with air. From the beginning of our existence, running has been our destiny. It has been destined this constant motion: for the ball to fly and for us to chase it. Whenever the ball comes to us we go mad, and, with all our strength, we kick it away. Graveyard Why be afraid of the graveyard? At least in that land, silent as a weighing scale, I can settle in a little house of my own that will let me forget the migration from warren to warren, a little house for which I will never pay rent, for which no one will ever ask me to return the key. To the Critics You have asked me relentlessly where I get my freedom, how my tongue, a leaf of muscle, a helpless sliver of meat, could rip out the curtains of Pharaoh’s palace, how it could fearlessly pass through barbed wire, over a land of thorns. Which throne or crown backs you, you ask. Whose pocket were you cut from, you ask. Go easy. Let me tell you: when my poverty is a coffer always full, when my homelessness is a skyscraper, when insomnia’s bed is warm and across the four seasons my vineyard’s griefs grow so juicy and full, a nail couldn’t be driven between them, how, then, is freedom not drawn to me? how, then, is tenacity not my confidante? Translations from the Kurdish By Alana Marie Levinson-LaBrosse Arguably the most popular living Kurdish poet, Abdulla Pashew draws audiences in the thousands when he gives readings. In addition to his eight volumes of poetry, Pashew is a prolific translator, fluent in Russian and English, responsible for bringing Whitman and Pushkin to Kurdish readership. He holds a master’s degree in pedagogy and a doctorate in philology. Ismail Khayat, Sleeping, 2013, Sulaimani, 33 x 33, pencil on paper. WORLDLIT.ORG 43 ...