A Persian Poem

FRIEND

Grand was she

Grand was she
And native of today
She was related to all the open vistas
And how well she understood the tone of water and earth
Her voice
Sounded like the scattered melancholy of reality and her eyelids
Pointed out to us
The direction of the pulse of elements
And her hands
Leafed through
The clear air of benevolence
And caused kindness
To migrate towards us
She resembled her own solitary self
And she interpreted for her mirror
The most affectionate curve of her time
And like rain she was full of freshness of repetition
And like the style of trees
She spread out into healthiness of light
She always called to the wind’s infancy
And she always tied the conversation
To the hasp in water
One night
She performed for us
Love’ green prostration so candidly
That we rubbed the sympathy of earth’s surface
And became refreshed like the accent of a pail of water
And often we saw
With how a large basket
She would set forth to pick grapes of tidings
But alas
She wouldn’t sit in front of the ablution of pigeons
And she went to the bring of naught
And lay down beyond the patience of lights
And she didn’t think at all
How lonely we were
To eat apples

* Translated by

p.s: here you can find translated version of some sohrab’s poems…

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1 Comment »

  1. […] Hafiz is the apple of people’s eyes At your door, prostrated, your vision espies. p.s: Another persian poem. Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)One Regret I Am Determined Not To […]


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