Exile from Letter

Saba Keramati

:Fereshteh dear My


.village grandfather’s our to Go

.road dusty a be will it know I

braying donkeys’ the miss I

chime wind a like rising voice your and 

bedroom old Father’s In .din the over

.writing my of packet a left I

hid I where place same The

pocket would we figs fresh the

:honest be will I .market the from

.written I’ve everything remember don’t I 

journey the risk cannot I

return a write not must You .back 

household our in clemency One .address 

anger my fear I .enough lucky is

—prayers mother’s our out cancels 

change to has something

live can I before country that in

little very have I .again soil its on

.Frankfurt in here money

.much pay not does factory The

.write but do can I much not is There

.German learn can I Maybe

.Himmel is آسمان

park the in bathing گنجشک a saw I 

.filigran it called man A .yesterday

wings its about Something 

homesick feel me made

.translate cannot I way a in

.here Iranians other some met have I) 

want not do I .alone not am I

—Please (.worry to you

:behind left I thoughts the me send 

.dangerous me deemed that ones the 

.Scarred “.revolutionary A”

scent The :dream a had I night Last 

.cherry of taste A .almonds of

Saba Keramati is a Chinese Iranian writer from California. She is the author of Self-Mythology and the poetry editor for Sundog Lit.
Originally published:
March 16, 2026

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