As if...

As if the cold of silence

made the weather colder

than she says:

"cars don't move at all,

trees are not green anymore,

birds have died, and you and me are alone."

A dog passes and  a woman with her cane.

It seems that she swallows the time.

she says:

"the ambulances sirens hurt my ears"

I say:

" Perhaps someone has chopped the love by his tongue,

perhaps someone has buried the  sun,

perhaps days have turned to nights

and nights have become darker than the old time."

She stands silent

and I say:

"everywhere are quite and you and me are alone."

Farshideh 2006

                                                                                                                  The jewel of the secret treasury

                                                                                                      Is still the same as once it was, the seal

                                                                                                 Upon Love, s treasure casket, and the key

                                                                                    Are still what thieves can neither break nor steal

                                                                                                          Still among Lovers Loyalty is found     

                                                                                                                                                  And therefore

                                                                                                             faithful eyes still strew the ground    

                                                                              With the same pearls that mine once strewed for thee

                                                             Hafez 14Th. century

                                         translated by Gertrude Bell 1897            

Bird

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

Pablo Neruda

(1904-1973)

به هر تار ِ جان‌ام صد آواز هست
دريغا که دستي به مضراب نيست.
چو رويا به حسرت گذشتم، که شب

فروخفت و با کس سر ِ خواب نيست

                                                                   احمد  شاملو                                            

۱۳۳۹

I know a sad little fairy, who lives in an ocean, and ever so softly plays her heart into a magic flute; a sad little fairy who dies with one kiss each night
and is reborn with one kiss each dawn."

 Forugh Farrokhzad

؛ نه اين برف را ديگر سر با ز ايستادن نيست؛*

قلبم کمی درد می کند. نفسم تنگ است..

نگاه کردن به گذشته ام مثل نگاه کردن به راههای کهکشانی است. گم نمیشوم

نشانه های بسیاری در ان می یابم که بر این راه رفته می تابد... 

پر نور  زیبا  عاشقانه  ازلی  ابدی    لمسش می کنم  با نگاهم  نگاه به گذشته 

قلبم کمی درد میکند ....

ا سمان سرخ است .... برف می بارد...

Houri

lتاوا زمستان-2008  2007

© 2005 Reza Nasrin Foundation

Contact: You can send your comments to info@nasrinfoundation.org
Last modified : 04/12/2007 07:58:41 PM