Five Minutes

By Mohammad Hossein Abedi
Translated by Laetitia Nanquette and Ali Alizadeh

In the street’s celebration, fear,

when every path is wasted on us.

We walk the path of vanity

with a watch that’s always five minutes early.

When we cross the street

that smell of your dolls,

the sayings of grandma,

and her dirty looks.

The anguish in your voice:

All night

I circumambulated the wall

in my dreams.

When we cross the forest,

when you go through the song

on the beach,

a horse, its colour isn’t important

let’s say white.

When you ride it

the horse seems smaller,

the song seems distant.

When you become lonely

only the wall

is your companion.

Five minutes later

we cross the street

with feet that are always five minutes late

with your dolls

with this street

with.