Mohammed Omar Othman (1957-), 'A Fall Letter'

(translated from the Kurdish by Muhammed Chawsawa and A.M. Levinson-LaBrosse)

Oh girl, whose dress is green even in fall, who places fresh flowers in her hair,
Don’t dream of my hands as a belt for your waist!
Haven’t you seen how the white fire of age has devoured my head of hair?
I’m afraid for it to come too close to your forest of black.
Haven’t you seen my fingers that are ten dry sticks?
If they become the comb for your hair, they will break in an instant.
Don’t blame me if you see my eyes looking like the clouds of winter.
The poem’s shore is enough for me to embrace.
If you hear that I have killed myself, know that
I couldn’t voice a poem to hold my misery.