Shalt the mirage be the oasis,
My thirst longed for the fancy of arrival,
Shall the distance be lesser and closer,
Shall the happy abode be the comfort of heart.
From the dreamy eyes of the dusk,
I lived the moments in your embrace,
The moon had the glance of drunkenness,
Avoiding the desolation of the desert my heart,
Preferred the solace of damp night under the stars.
To satiate a worshipper‘s savour for love,
And like a stranger in the streets of Herat the ancient;
So I spoke the tongue of sweetness calling alms,
And lived the dust of the taverns old forgotten.
Give me back the eloquence of the words in gold,
Of the woven knots of silk and wool and wafts.
Of the smoke of roses as it would leave your lips,
Of the treasure of beauty I was told not mine.
After writing few verses in Persian and some other happenings
May 14,2012.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem