Skip to main content

" The Linden trees on Independance Day"poem by Nilofar Mehrin 1990











 I wrote this poem along with a few others while i was a student of literature in the 90's .  I didnt give people i knew a reading because i thought it was probably consideed to be a bit pretentious if i painted and did poetry at the same time ... but it was a natural organic way of being creative ... these ideas just poped out of me alredy formed and even tho i have been reading and re reading them for many years , there isnt much that i have changed in them . The Linden trees are extraordinary in the summer months , and i crossed the piazza d'independenza (square) often . I dont know how this poem jumped out of my head , but i only have a few of these which were well formed before they were constructed.  Guido thought that poetry was too high up and that ordinary people (the likes of us)  couldnt do poetry. But this was to prove him wrong ... poetry does it's own thing. In any case "the secret life of trees" was also a metaphore  .....












The Linden Trees






 I am attracted by the beautiful Linden trees but i try to escape their charm
Their tempting perfume is hard to resist.
I try to leave the magnetic magic circle they weave about me
With the intoxicating scent they scatter in the air.


It is a tough game
and i am alone with this army of quiet green Linden trees
They are a sly bunch
Mercilessly unscrupulous and base while hunting their prey
In their effort to break my resistance
They try to make me do whatever they think is best (for their interest) !
They have the complicity
Of the perfumed grass which has just been mowed.


You seemingly paralized trees
I pitied you
with your branches always ambitiously reaching out
towards the limits of the sky
You mask your secret life with
"quiet greatness and nobel simplicity"
Like the primitive hunters of antiquity
You are looking for a fresh prey
         pulsating with life !
You plan to capture that which was roaming free
Inorder to suck the vital juices


One morning as i was walking across the square
I noticed you were different
No longer standing upright and tall




Secretly


You were dancing!


I was wtching you and could see you from the
                                                         corners of my eyes


As if worshipping a pagan godess and trying to please her
with the rythmic movements of your rigid trunks
A divine being you were a severe jude;




You seemingly cold, solid, Marble like trees
were trying to please an entity invisible to my eyes
I saw you with your thousands branches moving harmoniously
with undulating motions in the breeze
Volouptuously pulsating from your roots to the extremities of your leaves
Fiery coloured flowers were born from the tension of the test
Sprinkling your irrisistable perfume
"Stille Grosse und Edle Einfalt"
I am fascinated by the charmed trees in love ...












xxxxxxxxxxx






























translation :


una canzone" per gli Gli Alberi della Piazza D'Independenza"






Subisco il fascino , ma cerco di fuggire l'incanto


ogni giorno cerco di resistere la tentazione


lotto con la forza magnetica    


il profumo inebriante sparsa impietosamente


nell'aria



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Living Art As A Work in Progress

There was my favorite song by The Style Council  on at the caffe,  it was haunting because i had listened to it a lot during my years at university, in Florence, and i listened to it in Tehran while i was looking after my mother.  It was so romantic and expressed  nostalgic  feelings.   I looked out of the window while sipping at my coffee and indulged in looking out onto the busy street from the comfort of my armchair .... on this rainy day i was in Paris and a dream i had, had come true......  " Empty hours Spent combing the street In daytime showers They've become my beat; As I walk from cafe to bar I wish I knew where you are; Because you've clouded my mind And now I'm all out of time  Empty skies say try to forget Better advice is to have no regrets; As I tread the boulevard floor Will I see once more; Because you've clouded my mind 'Till then I'm biding my time I'm only sad in a natural way And I enjoy sometimes feeling ...

LA Republica : A Verona lo street artist Cibo combatte il fascismo e il razzismo con i murales

arti visive street & urban art A Verona lo street artist Cibo combatte il fascismo e il razzismo con i murales       By   Valentina Poli  - 31 luglio 2018 QUANDO L’ARTE PUÒ DAVVERO FARE LA DIFFERENZA NELLE NOSTRE CITTÀ: CIBO È UNO STREET ARTIST VERONESE, CLASSE 1982, CHE CON IL SUO LAVORO PROVA A CANCELLARE LE SCRITTE E I SIMBOLI D’ODIO CHE AFFOLLANO I MURI COPRENDOLE CON FRAGOLE, ANGURIE, MUFFIN E ALTRE COSE DA MANGIARE. LA SUA STORIA Lavoro dello street artist Cibo “Non lasciare spazio all’odio”  o  “No al fascismo. Sì alla cultura”  e ancora  “Se ci metto la faccia è perché ho la speranza che altri mi seguano nel rendere le città libere dall’odio e dai fascismi, qualsiasi bandiera portino oggi. Scendete in strada e non abbiate paura! La cultura e l’amore vincerà sempre su queste persone insipide!”.  Queste sono alcune frasi che si possono leggere sul profilo Facebook di  Pier Paolo Spinazzè , in ...

My mother's family life in Banglore as children (1930's onwards .... and before the Partitian

Life and opinions of Jahan Namazie/Azim Ali ....  written in the summer of 2018 They had this theory that children being small didn't need much food. The choicest food was given to the men, as they were the bread winners so they needed to eat well. The dastarkhan was laid with all the best dishes. The men were served first while the women and children waited patiently till the men finished eating and the leftovers the women and rest of the family ate. Lucky for us we did not practice this in our house. My mother believed men and women were equal and deserved the same opportunities. She made my brothers do house work as well as the girls which was shocking as men had to be waited hand and foot. Men never went into the kitchen or took care of the children. My father had broken the rules, he did the cooking and took care of the children. Every one made fun of him, but he had an excuse as my mother was disabled due to her arthritis and co...