Dad’s advice
I recall my father
Sufi-like, too humble
he advised; stories…
I bow to his soul and
everything he believed.
“Once in the old Tehran
on way was caravan…”
Never was serious
A Muslim and pious
and never joking ugly
he kept things in centre
advices were riddles.
“carriers were donkeys
one of them wore a tie.”
He said and open-eyed
I listened like kitten.
“he was the leading one
walked ahead and head up
the rest looked tired, worn
all under the same load…”
This teaching and Mullah’s:
“Eat sleeves, is your lunch.”
Meant people do not see
the hidden in brain
the judgement is simple
your clothes and outwear.
Simply he meant say:
“Wear descent, keep balance.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem