This sheet that stretches from here to the world's end
is covered by all that fallen snow.
Why must we be lost too?
Just a single stray earring
shows midst all this whiteness,
not a tree, not a rabbit, not a star.
Where are we amongst it all?
When you chucked the earring in that drawer
shook out the darkness on the balcony
and threw the sheets into the laundry basket,
at the end of that long night
I died a little.
It was a fresh, wild garden,
but every path was covered
with sheets of snow.
It is falling now, shrouding everything still ...
The literal translation of this poem was made by Elhum Shakerifar
The final translated version of the poem is by Maura Dooley
© Poetry Translation Centre 2004-2015