I press my head down

It’s the result of insomnia oppressing me

I press my head to you and to my miserable memoirs

The night is pressing me too

But I’m so tough

Now it’s the sound of your scream coming

And there is blood

And there is the smell of tear and tear gas

A soldier is pressing my head down by his boots

Someone is pulling the trigger

Now there is a gun between my eyebrows

-I feel the blood pressure in my head

The cowards have run

I press a cold hand in my cold hand

Someone was calling my name all the night

I feel the pressure of a lump in my throat

My throat is wounded

And I hear you screaming in the ear of someone who is all dead

I feel the pressure of life

And its wounds

And its marks

And I feel the pressure of the graves upon the solitude of dead bodies

I press my fists to the wall and I swallow my cry

You are still screaming in the wild howls of the wind

I press my head down

A vessel is pressing a nerve

And I press a bottom to flash my life back

To go back to a scene where I’m opening a window towards light

Where everybody rise out of the graves

Where I hold a warm hand in my hand

And we are laughing in our homes and in our rooms

There I hear the sound of peace

And my heart beats normally

And that’s a better day with a green background

Fatemeh Ekhtesari

Translated by Mohammad Hoseini Moghaddam