Pishko Najmadin

International Journal of Kurdish Studies, Jan, 2004

Born in 1953 in Halabja, Southern Kurdistan, he was involved at an early age in politics and joined the armed Kurdish liberation movement. He went into exile in Sweden in 1989. To date he has published three collections of poetry: Perennial, Sweden 1992; Searching for the mirage of the homeland, Sweden 1996; A fragment of exile in life, Hawler, Kurdistan 2000.

HOMELAND

When you are far from me,
you are closer than the heartbeat.
When you are near,
my hand doesn't reach your hair,
like the stars of my dreams.
When you don't reach me,
What a colourful paradise you are,
When I reach you
What a true hell you are.

STONE

Even a stone has its own history,
a history made of silence and expectation.
Even a stone has a story,
that is the story of love and pondering.
Even a stone has a heart,
great like the stature of love,
soft like the whisper of rain.
Even a stone talks with the earth ...
in a language we never understand!

THE PAST

The flowers have wilted,
the colors have died,
the butterflies of fragrance have flown away!
When the last flowerpot was broken,
my intoxicated head
left the niche of obeisance.

Translated by Farhad Shakely