Visual Error A poem by Rosa Jamali Translated from original Persian into English by the author
Right at the center of universe They opened my tied hands And they let me go This is the Land you have long yearned for…
(A dark thick veil was drawing black circles over my eyes In a very early second, the time was set with my watch. My hands hadn't been shaped yet, They were immature My dusty clay-made face My Profile on a sculpture was the same since the Genesis Just thick dark circles over my eyes And my throat was silenced, its vibrations sealed and forbidden.
I've been blinded and ransomed to sit there and count tambourines that we had divided yesterday and finished the other day
I have been walking on rivers, splitting the seas Ask the chronicle for how many years I split the seas
A tight eye pupil has encompassed the whole world Yet me, In desperate need of a 7 millimeter space to write on the margins of the pool What are you speaking about? You've been sleeping in my arms for so many years Worms have covered the centre of universe And this bending round shape which lingers for ever has dispatched me What are you speaking about? The Fahrenheit thermometer says My temperature has increased one degree
Just the time we could reach the centre of the earth We would be a landmark for you Right, it's the land I desired for It's pettier than what I had imagined Its interior shell is peeling me off They have told the sweepers to sweep us in a way nobody could be left It's worth more than the cost of what has blinded me It's excavating my throat tunnels And this labyrinthine soil Its lime shell It's a land from here to seven millimeters there I couldn't have dreamt this fragmented dream
They had untied my ropes And I didn't know where my journey took me to, they had abandoned me on a wasteland, they didn't want me anymore!
Oh, wait, sister! Wait I have endured all this!
But this wound has left a scar on my body The one which you cannot erase it What are you speaking about? While they have stolen the right hand of God I have turned to a profile stone on this famine-stricken land I have turned round and round to reach the most mysterious spot on this circle Here is a piece of land to dig With a naked torso of God In the middle of a pool full of blood How much do you pay for this labour? The air which tightened my neck is blowing gustily You are chasing me like a shadow I'm a light and lantern on your shady way It's two at midnight Ask the chronicles for how many thousand years I have walked on the sea We had come to watch the eclipse
Right at the time we stepped on the centre of the earth Just a shady vein from my right atrium Like a corner ends in a dead end alley Oh, wait sister Wait!
It was unprecedented And had disappeared from my eyesight.
The FBI Inspector (380 pages) is a collection of 25 short fiction crime novellas involving the law enforcement services of FBI Inspector Joe Giralo along with his three government agents, Sal Velardi, Arthur Orsi and Dan Blachford.