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Reza Parto-Azam

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Wherever I go are these people
I love these people somehow
But who are they, men and women,
Who are they?
Father, don’t worry my son, don’t worry

This dark heavy sky. I go on trips
Canal trips, bus trips
May my problems end.
For God’s sake, my problems end

It’s the same cloudy and desperate weather
Wherever I go.
Who are these people?
What do they do for a living?
May God give me power

I always pass through these shops
The same coffee shops, stores.
Passing through these streets
And in these streets
I cannot think clearly.

So many people, walking
Beautiful women, extremely pretty
Are you a writer? I am not,
but what else am I?

London is a beautiful city, restaurants, coffee shops
The construction is beautiful
But who are these people?
May my anxiety stop

Cigarettes, and cigarettes
I love cigarettes
Think before you. . .
Think before you do this sin

These empty streets
Street lights
Can we go swimming?
What can we do?
May this dread stop

Huge mountain, beautiful sea
It’s all your poetry
We leave it to the doctor
The psychiatrist,
All kinds of feelings
May my dread stop

Do you love this girl?
I do.
How are you? I am ok.
May my dread stop
My fear stop
My dread stop.

Page(s) 8-9

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