I don’t want to be a saint
nor a tourist of useless thoughts
not even an artist
hanged by his own reputation
I only wish to be a luny
for he laughs at no other than himself
and weeps for no other
than those who laugh at him
My laughter would pour out
my recorded silence
and my sorrow
should paint my soul blue
the moon would be my anger
the oceans my restless body
and when strangers
nod pityingly at me
I would stare at them
with my eyes closed
and my mouth half opened
my hands, reaching out for nobody

so at dinner
at their sick parties
in their funny love making and weird courtships
they could have something to talk about
something a little more rainy
than any stupid talk about the weather
and a little less selfish
than any “I love you” ever whispered

Ah!
mock me
pity me
and throw at me
everything that you all dislike
and take away all that you like
my silence
my face
even my voice
I’ve nothing to lose
I’m the prophet of all the clowns of the world!

...................................................

Maryam Ala Amjadi was born in Tehran on the 1st of January in the year 1984 (the year of George Orwell's chilling depiction) and she was named Maryam (Persian for Mary or Maria) by her mother for the very reason.

When she grew up she questioned her name. What did it mean? She found out that it was originally a Hebrew word and the prefix (Mar) meant bitter. Later a friend told her that Maryam meant bitter sorrow or bitter wisdom, but she could not make out which she was

She was just seven when she went to in India with her parents for a 7 year stay. There she spent her childhood studying the English language in the Kendra Vidiyala School and then the Sophia High School in Bangalore.

She was almost eight when she wrote her first poem. It was a short childish and rhymed one about her nails: Why did one have them at all if one was to cut and trim them all the time? Why did they keep growing only shortly afterwards?
The funny poem made her parents laugh in approval and the next thing she knew was that she was standing in the middle of the crowd at parties and family gatherings and they would make her recite poetry. And she would tell them how she would go to see the world, to lie down in the shadow of the Pyramids in Egypt, eat Chinese food and see the paintings in Rome.

"And when I come home
I'll write a book
Just like the stories
Of Capitan Cook"

The applause would tell her that she would write more and more. She returned with her family to Iran after 7 years with nostalgic blood in her veins for her beloved India.
She started publishing her poems in Tehran Times.
She published the first volume of her poetry in 2003 in a bilingual book titled “Me, I, Myself".
Maryam writes her poems in English and here is her reason:

Why I write is another story. But why I write in English it isn't because I am competent in the language, on the contrary it is due to my incompetence. My first language and mother tongue is Persian. English is my second language. Writing in this language quenches my thirst for adventure, because when you write in a language that you are not fully aware of all of its capabilities, then along with thirst for unknown lands you can venture to walk infinitely on its most dangerous paths again and again. On the other hand the inert familiarity with ones first language and the isolated peace it brings, makes such a thing impossible. To me writing in such a language is a challenge. One where Me, I and Myself entangle. We strive and strive or it is better to say we are entangled in a big circle of dilemma and this entanglement is one good opportunity to get more colors on our faces.

She graduated with a B.A in English Literature from the Allameh Taba Tabaei University of Persian Literature and Foreign Languages in Tehran, in May 2006.

Other Poem by Maryam Ala Amjadi