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Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Neshani


Calaretul intreba crepusculul,
Spune-mi de stii,
Unde este casa prietenului meu?

Iar cerul s-a oprit o clipa,
I-a daruit trecatorului revarsarea luminii
Mangaindu-i buzele
Pana spre intunericul nisipurilor,

Iar apoi revarsarea de lumina
A aratat inspre un plop,
Zicand:

Pe langa plop,
E o carare
Mai verde decat visele Celui Atotputernic,
Iar dragostea acolo-i mai albastra
Decat penele Celui in toate Drept.

Mergi pe carare pan'la capat,
Il vei vedea, capatul,
Rasare dincolo de trecerea in barbatie.

Intoarce-te apoi spre floarea singuratatii,
Iar la doi pasi de floare,
Opreste-te,
Este fantana vesnica din care Pamantul se adapa
Dintru inceputuri.

Acolo frica iti va da tarcoale,
O vei simti, n-o vei vedea.

Iar in intimitatea aceea a spatiului,
Prelingandu-se ca o parere peste tine,
Vei auzi un sunet rostogolindu-se,
Si vei zari un pusti,
Catarat pe un copac inalt,
Sa caute pui in cuibul luminii,

Pe el intreaba-l;
Unde este casa prietenului?



Many have written about Sohrab. Honestly, he deserves more.


The rider asked in the twilight, Where is the friend's house?
Heaven paused
The passer by bestowed the flood of light on his lips to the darkness of sands,
and pointed to a poplar and said:

Near the tree,
Is a garden-line greener than God's dream
Where love is bluer than the feathers of honesty.
Walk to the end of the lane, which emerges from behind the puberty,
then turn towards the flower of solitude,
two steps to the flower,
stay by the eternal mythological fountain of earth,
where a transparent fear will visit you,
in the flowing intimacy of the space you will hear a rustling sound,
you will see a child,
Who has ascended a tall plane tree to pick up chicks from the nest of light,
ask him:
Where is the friend's house?


(Iranian Film and Poetry)

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