From 'I Pity the garden'                               Original Poetry in Persian

No one thinks of the flowers
No one thinks of the fish
No one wants to believe
that the garden is dying
its heart swollen under the sun
its mind draining of green memories
and its senses rotting in seclusion

Our garden is lonely.
Yawning ... Waiting
for an offering from an unknown rain cloud
Our garden is lonely
Our pond is empty.

I fear an age that has lost it's heart
I am frightened
by the thought of so many futile hands
by the image of so many estranged faces
I think that the garden can be saved in a hospital
I think
I think
And the garden's heart is swollen under the sun
And its mind is slowly draining of green memories


 From 'terrestrial verses'                               Original Poetry in Persian

Then the sun grew cold
and blessings left the land
grass dried in the fields
fish withered in the seas
and from then on the ground refused it's dead.

no one thought about love anymore
no one thought about greatness anymore
and no one thought about anything anymore

what endless emptiness
the sun was dead
and no one knew that the sad dove
escaped from their hearts
was called faith


 part 3 From 'only sound remains'                 Original Poetry in Persian

Why should I stop?
The birds have gone in search of waterfronts
The horizon is vertical
The horizon is vertical and it's movement fountain-like
And gleaming stars orbit at the limits of sight

The earth multiplies in the sky
Linking tunnels weave through the turbulent air.
And the day is an expanse that overflows
The tiny mind of the newspaper worm


 Part 4 from 'only sound remains'                 Original Poetry in Persian

The summit of all forces is union
Fusing with the sun's bright essence
Flowing into light's reason

It is natural that windmills fall
Why should I stop?

I will gather young sheaves of wheat
And nurse them
under my breast

sound, sound, sound, only sound
the sound of plant's outstretched longing to grow
the sound of water's lucid desire to flow
the sound of starlight pouring on soil's feminine skin
the sound of the conception of meaning
and the shared mind of expanding love.
sound, sound, sound, only sound remains