Empty Goblet Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Empty goblet

I read as the ant walks on a mirror
The shiny, the slippery part

I hear the high heel shoe of the caterpillar
Noiseless; nine hundred ninety nine
Then a sound that penetrates
An ear, appears in the eyes
Delves in mind, a heart
Breaks like antique
Ceramic of the
Repentance.

I read Lola Ridge and Khayyam.
Core of earth and sky
Day and night.

She was born in Dublin in nineteenth century, he in Naishapur in twelfth.
So different…

Enjoy them both as if I am a vase; being filled with pristine water of the spring.
But shatter like the ice of Neva in spring…

I am melting as if glacier of Andes or Poles
I am washed away like currents…dead in Atlantic
Pacific.

“I and poetry? ”
And feel laughed at…
That is all.
Inadequate night…
Like an un-gathered lily.
Crashed before the bartender.