General

Our Bread by Sedigheh Vasmaghi (English Translation)


by Milena Rampoldi, ProMosaik e.V. – In the following the English Translation of the Persian poem “Our Bread” by Sedigheh Vasmaghi. The symbol of life, of mankind, and at the same time of oppression.

Bread has relation to everything, bread is related to oppression, and to prostitution, to the “missing”… 
OUR BREAD
See there,
On the
street a woman exchanges
her body
for bread
and a man
close by
robs
another
of the
bread he is carrying home
And we who
hang around hungrily
know that a
dirty hand
has emptied
our table of bread
This is our
bread money turned
into
yellowcake in hidden corridors
to decorate
the table of oppression
The bread
money has been turned into missiles
that reach Israel
faster than
water and fodder
to the
earthquake victims
in Varzaghan
and Ahar
See these
Shells and
tank skeletons
scattered
over the streets of Homs
They are
our bread money
See that is
our bread money
Buried
under the ruins of Damascus
Next to a
gambler’s hopes
Look, this
is our bread money
Spent on
the streets of Aleppo
In the
sight of the dead
Given to a
loser who has lost the game
before it
has begun
Our bread
money has become
seeds of
fraud and corruption
and is
spread on the ground
Perhaps a
farmer with dried up thoughts will come
and harvest
the empty hopes
Our bread
money has become firewood
that burns
everything around it
and is
itself burnt to ashes
Our bread
money  has become guns
pointed at
the wrong targets
Our bread
money is the nuclear plant in Bushahr
under a
blanket of idiotic dust
that is as
old as the powerful
Our bread
money is a bribe that swells in the pockets of China
and Russia
This is our
bread money that pays the wages of the Revolutionary Guard Commanders
who string
up heads and sow up lips
so the poor
don’t know why they’re hungry
Our bread
money has become a pulpit
for the
preachers of the stupid
that teach
us that our hunger
is a sin
made by God
and a sign
of the return of the savior
But we know
that is our sin
If a stupid
man is standing in the pulpit
That it is
our sin if a stubborn man sits on the throne
We know
that from the seeds
of lies,
deceit, fear and silence
grow
nothing but hunger
Our bread
money has been lost in the casinos of Policy and Power
What
remains is our selves,
and our
children
who are
full of young and green hopes
and a house
with fragile cornerstones
which a
single tug is enough
to pull
down
to ruins
over us
But we
would better be careful
because
tomorrow
when we
awake
and rise up
We will
realize
that they
have lost us
lost our children
and lost our house
Sedigheh Vasmaghi