Foggy Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Foggy

In South-East of Iran,
Sistan, Baluchistan,
Old city lies alone,
Silently telling us:
"Though was burned
Am alive…"

We read the Ferdowsi
And think that it is myth,
Not because it is so
But because are lacking
The eyes that can see deep.

Picture the Atlantis
Swallowed by the sea
Then return to Iran,
Walk in those areas…

Sepahan, Lashgargah
Are two yet
They mean one:
"Garrison! "

Goodar's son was in first
And Rostam in latter
The two were generals
In forces of Iran…

In times they compete and
In times fight as if one.

Then look at the casting
Of Iran, India…

See the "The cast of Dancers, "
They carry messages
Of the love and advise,
All oral and verbal.

See the same in tepees,
Listen to stories, we are one.