Masks Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Masks
Masks
Church
This today’s worth nothing and useless
Tolls the bells
Music, Beethoven’s, great field of magnet.
Some puppets, and elsewhere strings
Pinocchio learns to walk in a maze
How to go, directions, streets to cross
And climb and descend, the steps
This place, perfection in design, full of art
Takes me to Sophocles, Antigone, Oedipus
Shakespeare pulls curtains, for Chekhov.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:50:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
