The Common Love

Tear is a mystery,

Smile is a mystery,

Love is a mystery.

 

The tear in that night was my love’s smile.

 

I am not a narrative so that you could tell me,

Not a melody you could sing,

Not a sound you could hear,

Or that sort you could see,

Or that type you could know…

 

I am the common pain,

Scream me!

 

The tree speaks with the forest,

The grass with the plain,

The star with galaxy;

and I speak with you.

 

Tell me your name,

give me your hand.

Tell me your say,

give me your heart.

I have intuited your roots;

With your lips, I have spoken to all the lips,

and your hands are familiar with mine.

 

In the bright solitude, I have wept with you

for the living;

And in the dark graveyard, I have sung with you

the most beautiful songs of all;

Because the dead of this year

were the best paramours alive.

 

Give me your hands;

your hands are familiar with me.

Oh the late-found, I speak with you

Like the cloud with the storm,

Like the grass with the plain,

Like the rain with the sea,

Like the bird with the spring,

Like the tree speaks with the forest.

 

For, I

have intuited your roots,

Because my voice

is familiar with yours.

 

Common Love Shamlou
Photo by Vadim Stein

Ahmad Shamlou“The Common Love” (Original title: «عشق عمومی»)
A poem by Ahmad Shamlou
Translated by Sina Ghasemi
First published in Derafsh-e Mehr
Featured image by Vadim Stein
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