Mehran Sirani

With an Old Testament in one hand,
And bloody sword in another one,
The messengers of hate, terror and horror, in vain,
Want to compel us to a regressive time travel,
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In my endless gloomy world
When AM or PM of time is meaningless
When boundary between day and night is disordered
When four seasons seem soullessly just one-colored
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In one of these dark and icy days,
A wild sparrow will land in your garden;
Among those frozen beautiful violas;
Those, we planted them with our love;
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Playing the role of a neutral judge
Between a rebellious passionate heart
And a stubborn logical mind
Means living in an eternal hell for ever
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Touch my hand
Hear my whisper
Feel my heartbeat
Explore a new world
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I’ve never been scared of the death,
Nor have been worried to reach the end.
More than death or any other nasty event,
I’m worried to die among baffled shadows,
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Love the night time,
Not because of total darkness;
Nor because of absolute silence;
Nor because I’m a night owl.
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That was all the busker could see.
A misty one way road,
Without any traveler,
In the middle of Nowhere to nowhere;
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Not because of:
- The pleasurable warmth of sunny days in summer,
- Or the amazing dance of colorful leaves in autumn;
- Or the magical rise of modest blossom in spring;
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For you:
- Could have sailed in every furious ocean
- Could have moved every rough mountain
- Could have reached the top of the sky
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Let me touch your warm hands,
To feel the magic power of life;
Let me drown in your sweet eyes,
To feel the endless beauty of the world;
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The flying notes of solo piano,
Were softly floating in the air.
The shadows of burning candles,
Were quietly dancing tango on the walls.
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The wicked pointers of the clock
Are devilishly moving backward
Each second seems an endless trip
Deep inside an infinite black hole
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There is no more Mona Lisa around
Nor a miraculous Serenade in the air
Even the inexhaustible Old Guitarist
That once could enchant the world
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No matter young or elderly
Rich or poor; healthy or sick
Cute or ugly; Happy or sad
Tall or short; obese or skinny
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Cry out my motherland
That instead of high-flying eagles
The ugly vultures have built the nest
On the top of your centuries old wisdom tree
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Deep in:
Your cute eyes are
The oceans of numerous lovely secrets
Your soft lips are
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