With Silence
In Fleeting Sleep
By
Mohammad Charmshir
Translated Exclusively for Gallery Mamak
by
Mamak Nourbakhsh
Poet
I sit under the ceaseless downpour of rain and fog
Hunched
Feline
(the cat shivers
in passionate contemplation of devouring a mouse)
I shiver
In my denim coat
(dead denim
ripped from the bed of the injured)
removed from the heat of a warm body
(crawling in the nightmare
of an unfulfilled passion)
Collapsed in the dampness of sweat
In the snores of pleading
In foaming water
In the endless hissings of curses and swearing
(from a twisted mouth)
I sit in the downpour of rain and fog
(like a castrated dog
grinding its teeth
at the hollowness of its castration
dreaming of the bitch
licking the blood of her heat)
I’m neither awake nor asleep
There’s a cloud in my head
(hunched)
Its downpour: tears
I sit
(with tar-streaked eyes)
Shadows pass
before me.
What do I see?
The Poet’s Nightmare
Frames of seven doors
Closed doors
the secret holders of the unseen,
are they disclosed?
They do.
They gape
Doors
Creaking on forgotten hinges
(deserted)
The glance sinks
into the virginity of the frames of the seven doors
And so collapses
The blood of concealment
from a trembling mouth
The Poem of the Poet’s First Nightmare
And the first door
A woman in the doorway
With no lips
No mouth
Emaciated
Ample breasts
(desiccated)
Breasts with thousands of mouths
(ripped open with a dead scream)
And hands
Clawing at the throes of pain
Snow White’s First Narrative
Snow White
It was dark. Dark. I had opened my eyes in the darkness. What can be seen in darkness? Nothing. Only the darkness. Later I smelt the dirt; the wet dirt—dirt that had decayed. The dirt of dead bodies… weighed heavy on my chest as if they’d thrown the whole world onto it. I was being crushed under the darkness and the smell of the dirt... Where was I? Where in this world? I reached out; the grit of dirt was playing under my fingers... This was it! It was the darkness. This is where the smell of dirt came from… Was I dead? When? Where? ... I could barely breathe. I needed air. So I was still alive. I had to get myself out from under this dirt. I had to stay alive. Me, Snow White, I had to breathe again… I raised my arms to the sky, a sky made of dirt… I clawed at that sky for the air that no longer existed… I clawed. I scratched. I dug… Suddenly, my arms came out from under the dirt. My hands were being licked by the coldness of a breeze... I opened my fingers to let the breeze pass through them.
The Narrative of the First Dwarf
First Dwarf
It was there on the ground, sprawled out. Was it asleep or dead? There was no telling. Its entire body was covered in dirt. It looked like they’d washed it in dirt... I moved forward. It wasn’t dead. It was asleep. Its chest was moving up and down… I came closer. It was a woman. I was scared. I pulled back. There are no women where my brothers and I live but we’ve heard a lot about them. We know what to do with women... Once more I drew closer. I bent over. My whole body was shaking, but my heart was beating harder. I knew I was in love—in love with this woman. What was I to do with her? With this love? I touched her throat. I was impatient. I no longer knew what to do—I ripped her head off her body.
The First Narrative of the Horse
Horse
My rider has put his mouth in a bag because of his lips. He wants to place a kiss with those lips on a woman’s lips. The woman is a princess too… My rider wants to awaken the woman with this kiss cause someone told him you’re supposed to wake women up with kisses… I have no idea why the woman is sleeping nor why she needs to be woken up with a kiss... What I DO know is that my rider doesn’t know that I ate his lips today. You know what? It’s like there was no one around to tell my rider that you have to feed a hungry horse... Another thing my rider doesn’t know is that I replaced his lips with mine… It’s like I’ve always said, it makes no difference if you kiss a woman’s lips with my lips or with my rider’s lips.
The First Narrative of the Angel of Death
Angel of Death
It was supposed to strike twelve and I was supposed to arrive on the scene. That’s how I always came...The clock struck twelve, I arrived… She was there sitting next to a candle melting in its holder with a baby sleeping in her arms... I was supposed to take hold of her heart and pull it out of her chest. That’s what I always did.. and that’s precisely what I did this time too. I reached into her chest to find her heart. My hand passed through her skin, her flesh, her veins and her nerves but there was nothing to find in there… I got scared. I looked at her, she had a smile on her face. Slowly she drew my hand out of her chest and she drew her baby closer to her… I watched her place her hand on the infant’s chest and press it a bit. It was the same pressure I used to take out people’s hearts… I could see that her child’s heart was red, too small for the woman’s mouth and too crisp for the teeth that were chewing it… Was I the angel of death or was she? … I pulled out my own heart and placed it in her chest. I didn’t want there to be another angel of death.
The Poem of the Poet’s Second Nightmare
And the second door opens
A man approaches
(from the well of darkness and nothingness)
Headless
His eyes
(dead and floating)
On a pond of blood
In the palm of his hands
The First Narrative of the Wandering Prince
Prince
There were seven crows sitting on the branches of an elm tree. The tree had dried. I was looking at their legs. They were not crows’ legs. They were human legs. I dismounted my horse. I looked at them again. Four of them had flown off, the remaining three were watching me. I turned to my horse, the four crows that had flown away were now sitting at the feet of my horse. I looked at the elm tree. The other three crows also flew off. I looked at where the four crows had been. Now all seven were sitting on my horse. They were clutching at my horse’s flesh with their claws. They were taking him away with themselves, away over the skies. My ears were filled with their screeches.
The First Narrative of the Woman in Labor
Woman
The sun was in the middle of the sky when the pain started. It was pressing my heart. I ached all over. I couldn’t breathe. I could only scream and beg… The ground under my feet was wet from the water pouring out between my legs. I was frozen all over. Shivering. I felt something between my legs. I panicked… I tried to touch it. There was a tiny hand between my legs. I caught hold of it. I thought I had grabbed hold of it but it was holding me. It was pulling itself out. Right out. Then there was a baby dangling from my hand… I was tired. I lay down on the ground. The infant was on my chest…I looked at it. I laughed. I thought it also laughed… I looked at the sky. There were seven crows circling round up there… Then I realized that the baby was slowly eating me.
The Narrative of the First Crow Out of the Seven Crows
First Crow
When the man approached we were on the branches of the elm tree. He didn’t see us. He wasn’t looking, he wasn’t looking at anything. He was only looking at the ground. It looked like he was looking for some place: a place whose whereabouts he didn’t know but when he saw it he recognized it. He was dragging something along with himself. All seven of us looked more carefully to see what it was that he was dragging along. Yes, it was a woman! He stopped under the elm tree. He was resting. Then he started to dig the ground and he dug and he dug till he didn’t dig any more. It was like he’d dug all he wanted to dig. He pulled the woman forward and threw her into the hole. Then he dumped so much dirt on her that he filled the hole. He looked real tired and he fell asleep right there. That’s when he saw us. His eye sockets were empty. I flew down off the elm tree. I went toward him. Although he couldn’t see he turned his face toward me. He said, ‘I killed her.’ He Then he didn’t say anything. just opened one of his fists. At first I was scared. A couple of minutes later I approached him. I don’t know why, but I put my head in his fist. There was an eye that kept on blinking in there. Suddenly I got this urge to peck at it. I grabbed it. It was soft… It came away easily. That was the first time that I took a piece of a human being for my chicks.
The Poem of the Poet’s Third Nightmare
And on the third door
A horse has fallen
Whose mane
brushes the dust in the wind
With turned head
It watches
The explosion of the wound
On overflowing intestines
(from the gaping mouth
That draws forth death onto the body)
Staring
(With the arrival of delayed fear)
With a gaping mouth that rejects a neigh in the throat
Snow White’s Second Narrative
Snow White
There were seven princes from seven different places in the world.. so that I might choose one of them to become the man of Snow White’s life... I chose the first one, the one who carried his eyes in the palm of his hand. My heart was of no use to him. I gave him my heart and took his eyes. His eyes were of use to me… they’re now sitting in a jug. They are staring at me.
The Narrative of the Man of Dark Nights
Man
The moon was still behind the clouds when I got there. It had always been like that. It had never changed in the seven times I’d gone there. I had to take the bag and leave without a word. A hand came forth in the dark holding a canvas bag. I had to reach out and take the bag... This time, when the hand was held out there was no bag. I still held out my hand; this time I held out both my hands… Then the thing that was being carried in those hands fell into mine. It was warm and gooey… I threw up on my own hands and on the infant that was lying in them.
The Narrative of the Second Dwarf
Second Dwarf
When my brother first brought the woman’s head, my other brothers and I were so excited we didn’t ask him why he had brought the head. We asked him that later. He never said why. We figured that out by ourselves. Then when we’d figured it out there was nothing we could do. My brothers and I are not allowed to fall in love here cause we can’t find a woman for all seven of us here. Either the seven women or the brother who’s fallen in love has to die... I’m not sure which one of my brothers first came up with this but we’d all agreed... There’s never been a woman where we are and no one has ever figured out what we did... We kept the woman’s head and instead we put our brother’s head where hers had been.
The Second Narrative of the Angel of Death
Angel of Death
When I got there the crow flew off the man’s chest... It was holding something in its beak. I was worried it might be the man’s heart which is why I first looked at the man’s chest. There were no cuts there; then I felt better. The man had a bloody mouth. What had the crow done to him? There was no time to think of this. I was worried in case the crow came back. I got to work. I reached out and pulled out the man’s heart from his chest. It was warm and gooey. Suddenly I began to shiver. I held on to the elm tree to stop myself from falling. Then I looked at the man’s heart again. What strange game was I involved in? … The man’s heart was my own heart that I had put in the woman’s chest.
The First Narrative of the Prince Who Held His Eye in the Palm of His Hands
The Narrative of the Prince
When I got to the palace gates where Princess Snow White lived, there was a crowd of men there who’d all come to propose to her. They were all strong wealthy men. I looked at myself. What did I have that could compete with these guys? Nothing. I thought it best to go back... I was mulling this over when I saw a woman from behind a wall staring at me. She gestured to me to approach her. I did. It was the Princess Snow White. She said, ‘I choose you.’ Then she pulled out my eyes from their sockets… I was left with the eyes that looked at me from the palm of my hand.
The Poem of the Poet’s Fourth Nightmare
And the fourth door opens
Eyeless heads
(rusted and tarred)
They stare emptily
(from eye sockets)
At the swelling of the night
Rejected
From the onset of a fear that does not exist
(it’s gone)
But its memory has caked over
Hands
Claw-like
On the frame of the fourth door
The Second Narrative of the Horse
Horse
Whoever’s seen a horse in the sky? That was me... The world looks different from up there. It was thrilling. I was enjoying myself which is why I wanted to neigh... Who’s ever seen a horse neigh in the sky? I did just that… That’s why the crows got scared and let go of me. I came straight down from way up there. It was a long way but I made it... Let’s skip how I fell to the earth though. The basic point is that I was lying unconscious on the ground when I suddenly saw something standing over me. I looked at it. It was a dwarf bent over me… I don’t know why it didn’t give me the chance to talk to it but it quickly chopped off my head.
The Second Narrative of the Man of Dark Nights
Man
The infant was still in my hands when I got home. I knew I had to let it go somewhere but I hadn’t done that yet. It felt like it was stuck to my hands. When I got home I suddenly remembered that my wife was pregnant. Why had I forgotten? What was I to do if she had been scared. But my wife wasn’t scared. She even had a smile on her face. She told me to leave the rest up to her and to leave. I left to wash the filth of this night off me... When I got back the baby was no longer there. Where had she buried it? I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know where it was... My wife said it was too bad the infant didn’t have a heart but it was healthy otherwise. I wanted to throw up again. My wife asked how come I knew I had to bring back the corpse of a dead baby with me. I looked at her. There were still some blood stains left on the corner of her lips... I threw up.
The Second Narrative of the Wandering Prince
Prince
The bag I’d left my lips in was on the back of the horse. Now that the crows had taken off with the horse I had no lips. There was nothing left to kiss the sleeping princess with. The only thing to do was to go back without a horse and without lips... My foot caught something. I looked down. There was a woman lying on the ground. Half of her had been chewed up. I was scared. I wanted to get away from that place when I suddenly remembered something. I went back and looked at the woman. I put her lips in my bag… What was the difference between my lips and hers? I needed a set of lips to be able to make the rest of my trip.
The Narrative of the Third Dwarf
Third Dwarf
I didn’t want my brothers to know. Had they found out they would have done the same thing to me that they did to my other brother... I didn’t want to die. But I had to die sooner or later. My brothers would kill me. You see, when a dwarf falls in love somehow his heart lets his other brothers know. Now that I was in love with that woman’s head what was I to do with my heart? … I only figured this part out later. When I did figure it out I wasted no time... One morning at dawn I swapped my own heart with the heart of the woman whose head my dead brother had chopped off.
The Narrative of the Second Crow of the Seven Crows
Second Crow
When I saw the child eating its mother I was sitting on the branches of the elm tree. At first I was stunned and then I remembered my own babies. I thought to myself what would happen if my chicks were to do the same thing to me one day. Then I thought I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I’d probably just stand there and let them eat all of me and get it over with. I said to myself that it’s all because of hunger.
My chicks cannot be left hungry otherwise they might eat me one day. I didn’t waste any time. I took the baby to feed my chicks.
The Second Narrative of the Woman in Labor
Woman
When she said she wanted my baby’s heart at first I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Then I understood. I was scared. I couldn’t ask her what she wanted a baby for. She was a princess and had to have whatever she wanted. I told her I’d find one for her… I did. I found the heart of a horse that was traveling with its rider.
The Poem of the Poet’s Fifth Nightmare
On the fifth door
But
There’s an infant
On whose fingertips
A spider has been woven a web
The infant
Has laughed
(that laugh
still lingers
on its mouth)
Under that veil
That the spider has woven
All over its body
Only the laugh remains
The Second Narrative of the Prince Who Carried His Eyes in the Palm of His Hands
The Prince
I was sitting under the elm tree. I was holding Princess Snow White’s heart in the palm of my hand. I was wondering what to do. How was I to return with eyes that I didn’t have and with a heart with which I didn’t know what to do? A hand fell on my shoulders. I was scared. I couldn’t see who was standing there. Whoever it was came and sat on my shoulders. Was it a child? But its voice sounded like a man’s. He whispered in my ear, ‘I want your heart.’ … What good were all the hearts in the world to me if I couldn't see? I said, ‘I’ll give it to you instead of your eyes.’ … He put his eyes in the palm of my hand and took Princess Snow White’s heart.
The Narrative of the Sixth Dwarf
Sixth Dwarf
Like five of my other brothers, I too had fallen in love with that woman’s head. I knew that if I didn’t do something I’d be killed like them. I had to find a heart to put in my chest that wouldn’t fall in love with that woman’s head: something my other five brothers hadn’t done… I saw the man sitting under the elm tree with a heart in his hands. I had to give him my heart and take that one but he wanted my eyes… I didn’t say I wouldn’t give them. I put the eyes of one of my dead brothers in the palm of his hands and took the heart.
The Third Narrative of the Angel of Death
The Angel of Death
I had never had a heart. Death needs no heart, all it needs to do is to take the heart of the dead and leave. That day when I came to take the heart of the sixth dwarf he had two hearts: one in the middle of his chest and the other in his hands. I put the heart that I pulled out from his chest in my bag and the other one I put in my chest. I wanted to see what the heart would do in my chest. This was the heart which I later put in the chest of the woman who had no heart.
The Third Narrative of the Horse
Horse
Under the elm tree I sat sucking on the dry branches when the woman appeared. This was before my rider decided to up and grab a kiss from a woman’s lips... As she approached I noticed that her stomach rose out of her like a mountain peak. I realized her husband had gotten her into trouble. She came and stood staring at me... I gave her a fine neigh to please her but she just stood there. She came closer and stared into my eyes. Then she grabbed my heart and took off… She was so busy running that she didn’t even see the beautiful smile I gave her... Not meaning to boast or anything but I had worked everything out… while she stood staring into my eyes. She pinched my heart and I took her infant’s heart.
Snow White’s Third Narrative
Snow White
I was asleep but not so soundly asleep as not to wake up when his breath caressed my face. It made no difference really, it was too late. I have no idea what he was beating my head with; all I know is that I couldn’t even scream. But I remember everything very well. Before I passed out I grabbed one of his hands and pressed. Something burst in my hand and it was gooey and disgusting. I think he was holding an eye in his hand... I passed out.
The Third Narrative of the Wandering Prince
Prince
The reason why I took off to awaken a princess all started with a dream... In that dream I was sitting under an elm tree. I could see seven dwarves eating seven crows. The more they ate the more they became like the crows. When there was nothing left of the crows they had become crows themselves: crows with human legs… When I woke up I realized I had to find a princess who was sleeping somewhere and who wouldn’t wake up.
The Poem of the Poet’s Sixth Nightmare
And the sixth door opens
There is nothing in the doorway
Only
Blackness sits
With the howling of the wind
(that sweeps the world)
The Narrative of the Seventh Dwarf
Seventh Dwarf
None of my brothers are alive any more. All six of them fell in love and were killed by the rest of us. Now only I remain and I too am in love... All that remains now is a dwarf and the head of a woman. Now it’s time to live... I’m going to sleep next to the head of that woman who’s made us all fall in love... I look up at the sky and I can see a crow sitting on the elm tree. I want to tell it how good it is to fall in love but instead I fall asleep.
The Narrative of the Seventh Crow of the Seven Crows
Seventh Crow
Sitting on the elm tree, I look at the dwarf whose holding the head of a horse and who’s staring at me. I’m waiting for him to fall asleep so that I can pick him up to feed my chicks with… Now our chicks only eat those people we take for them.. If we don’t feed them then they do what they’ve been doing for a while: they eat their mothers.
The Third Narrative of the Man of the Dark Nights
The Man of the Dark Nights
I had come to take a look at the hole I’d dug under the elm tree. Each of the seven times that I had taken the bags from that invisible hand I had come to this same place and put the bags in this hole… I dug the hole again but there were no bags there. Where had the bags gone? I was scared, really scared.
The Third Narrative of the Woman in Labor
Woman
I would wait for my husband to put the bag in the hole. When he’d leave I’d pull out the bag and eat what was inside... This is the only way to cure a woman who’s been longing for a baby for years… There was nothing else I could do. I had to eat the babies inside the bag.
The Fourth Narrative of the Angel of Death
The Angel of Death
When I got there the moon was ready and sitting on the branches of the elm tree. I stood there looking at a woman whose heart I was to pull out of her chest. The woman was trying to come out of the hole she was in. I approached and held out my hand to pull her out of the hole. She looked at me and I saw her face… I got scared. I drew back. It was the same woman in whose chest I had not found a heart. She smiled at me. I shivered. I held onto the elm tree to stop myself from falling... I knew I didn’t want to look at her face again... I sat by that elm tree.
The Seventh Poem of the Poet’s Nightmare
And the seventh door
A mirror in the seventh frame
A mirror which
Holds me in it
(hunched
in a denim coat)
I shiver
In the downpour of rain and fog
The Third Narrative of the Prince With His Eyes in the Palm of His Hands
Prince
And what did I benefit of all this loving and wanting? Only eyes that didn’t belong to me… There was nothing in my heart except hatred. I had to end it. I didn’t want hatred to be what I took home with me… I went back to place all my hate in the palms of Princess Snow White’s hands.
The Fourth Narrative of the Wandering Prince
Prince
And the Princess was sleeping under the elm tree. I pulled out the lips I’d brought with me from the bag and placed them on my face. I bent over to place the awakening kiss on the Princess’ lips... I felt the warmth of a hand on my chest. I wanted to see whose hand it was... The lips fell off my face and my chest burnt.
Snow White’s Fourth Narrative
Snow White
No dwarves, no prince. Only a woman. Only me… Now I sit holding an infant and I look at a glass jug that holds a pair of eyes that watch me. Gently I place my hand on my baby’s chest… there’s a warm heart in there.
Poet
A person is needed
To free me
From this nightmare
Even if
She’s death