Treasure Island

Forough Farrokhzad

(5 January 1935 - 14 February 1967 / Tehran)

Someone Who Is Like No One


I had a dream,
someone will come.

I had a dream,
someone is coming- for sure.
I had a dream about a red star,
And my eyes are blinking all the time,
And my steps join up, out of the blue.

I swear to God!
I don’t lie!
I dreamed about a red, shiny star-
when I was, like, awake.

Someone will come,
I know.
Someone is coming,
Someone else,
Someone better,
Someone who is like no one!

Someone who is not like my daddy,
And is not even like my mom.
Someone who is not like Ali,
And is not like Sara.
Someone who is like no one-
But like the one who “ought to be”.

And,
he is taller than our neighbors’ trees,
And his face is brighter than Mohamed’s face.

He is not afraid of Mr. Nour’ brother-
who wears a marine uniform-
and has a huge, huge pistol.

He is not even scared of Mr. Nour-
who owns all of our buildings’ rooms.

He must be a Saint, for sure!
I know, he can read my sister’s English book-
with closed eyes.

I know,
he can take a thousand off a million-
just very-very fast.

And,
and he can do something-
and we won’t have any blackout,
especially on Friday nights.

And he can make the Allah neon,
on the top of the mosque, become bright and green again.

Oh, I like that green neon a lot!
I like all colorful lights!
And I want Ali to have a bike,
with a big, red, flash light;
And I want to sit on the back of his bike,
And turn around the square.

Oh, I like biking around the square so much!
It is so good to go to the park;
And it is so good to have an ice cream;
And it is so good to drink a coke;
And it is so good to go to a movie.
I like all those good things a lot.

I am so little,
and I always get lost in the streets.
But daddy is not little- at all,
And he knows all the streets in our town.

Why he doesn’t do something-
for The One, the red star in my dream, to come here now?

Why he cannot make my dream-come true?
Why nobody does anything?

Oh, this sun is so lazy,
and it is still cold…
But I have cleaned up everywhere,
I have even washed all the stairs,
and I have opened all the windows.

Why my daddy doesn’t dream at all?

It is still cold…
But I have cleaned up everywhere,
I have even washed all the stairs,
and I have opened all the windows.

Someone will come,
Someone is coming,
Someone who walks with me,
Someone who is in my heart,
Someone who hears me breathing,
Someone who sees me dreaming of him.
Someone who hears me talking, talking about him.

I know,
Nobody can catch Him.

I know,
Nobody can jail Him.

I feel that He is growing on the other side of the fence,
I feel that He is singing with all the drops of rains.
and the falling of leaves.

Someone will come,
Maybe, on the day of Firework Show.

Someone will come,
and will bring fresh bread, butter and cream,
and a big pot of soup with lots carrots and potatoes.

Someone will come,
And will fairly divide the park, the coke and the soup,
And will give everybody his share.

I know,
He will give me my share too.

Someone will come,
Someone is coming,
I had a dream.


Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, January 2006, Montreal.

Submitted: Thursday, December 29, 2011

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