Carpet

by Azim Moradi

We are a patterned carpet 

Forever being woven. 

I wish the weaver wouldn’t err— 

How we dread being torn apart.

We are two motifs in a Qashqai carpet,*

Free from decorative vanity. 

Though our patterns are not symmetrical, 

They are not machine-made.

The pain of being stretched on the loom 

The silent knot will not tell. 

Before the work is done, the weaver 

Will not reveal our pattern to us.

A pond, a tree, and the two of us— 

This design must be safe. 

The desert encircles us; 

The more the meterage, the more…

The weaver’s hand is a logical hand— 

It will not weave the moon in its fist. 

The six-colored thread before the weaver 

Will not weave a crimson dream.

Unaware was the weaver’s hand— 

We provided the loom ourselves. 

Before they mounted us on the loom, 

We prepared our own thread.

The whip seated within the carpet 

Always grinds our backs— 

There’s a crackling sound in us, 

Weaving comes drop by drop.

We are two patterns knotted together, 

Outside this carpet we fear. 

We’ve grown used to these few meters; 

We dread the colossal world.

We leap out of the carpet 

And sit in the weaver’s place. 

Patterns flee from stillness, 

And a thousand knots scatter.

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Qashqai carpet*: A traditional Persian hand-woven rug made by the Qashqai nomadic tribes of Iran, known for its vibrant colors, symbolic patterns, and cultural significance.

BIO: Azim Moradi (b. 1997, Iran) is an Iranian poet. He is the author of the poetry collection Not Losing to Forever, which won the Iran Book of the Year Award in Poetry (selected by journalists) and was nominated for the Iran Golden Pen Award.