11/06/2014
نامه ای سرگشاده به مستر همیلتون
Dear Mr. Hamilton,
Hello sir,
I am your servant, very very much.
I am writing to you because all the way to the handle of the knife has reached my bone.
My hands grab your skirt, Mr. Hamilton; please reach my scream, Mr. Hamilton, from the hands of this man, Tom.
I don't know what a wet wood I have sold him or what s**t I ate that from the very first day he has been pulling the belt to my lift, with all kinds of cat dancing, he has tried to become the eye and the lamp of Mr. Wilson .
He made so much mouse running that finally Mr.. Wilson became donkey, and appointed Mr. Tom as his right hand man, and told me to work under his hand.
Mr. Wilson promised me that next year he would make me his right hand man, but my eye does not drink water, and I knew that all these were hat play, and he was trying to put a hat on my head.
I put the seal of silence to my lips and did not say anything. Since that he was just putting watermelon under my arms.
Knowing that this transfer was only good for his aunt, I started begging him to forget that I ever came to see him and forget my visit altogether. I said you saw camel; you did not see camel …..
But he was not coming down from the back of devil's donkey. What headache shall I give you; I am now forced to work in the mail house with bunch of blind, bald, height and half height people. Imagine how many times my ass has burnt.
Now Mr. Hamilton, I turn around your head. You are my only hope and my back and shelter.... I swear you to the 14 innocents, please do some work for me that you will see savab I mean good wages in the resurrection day.
I'll grab your skirt,.. I have six head bread eaters. I kiss your hand and Leg.
I circle around you.
Ramezoon
