Died when uprooted
Shahryar, lyricist with talent
Was known as, very best
What he wrote sold like gold.
To friend gave pride,
To others, an envy; jealousy.
“How you do what you do? ”
On TV was questioned.
“Take broom and remove…”
Explained what he meant
“The daily landing dust…”
His poems simple, hard
Of the roads and the signs
Of people who walked by
Busy with day and night
Noticed them and noted
A package with right words.
“I invite; revisit what you saw
That is what you have done
This is all I write of…
My part is, remove dust
Make it look as it was
When fresh, you recall
A known is better loved
I remove your trashed
Clean and bring back
Set it there on mirror
You see that brighter.”
Went Shah and new came
He too left and fled to States
Things changed so, he in fact
Is long gone; is long dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem