Golden Wheat Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Golden wheat

In line and one by one
-come donkeys, their goal one.
-Some of them fresh, and playful
-eager to go faster and further, as rebel;
-some heads down, bored, tired
-are fatigued, hesitant…

On their backs they carry farmers' gift
- (harvested in summer, golden wheat)
-men sitting with their soles on ground
-squat, went forward as do geese and the ducks.

Straws are tied and bundled up in cubes
-by the ropes made of the goats' mohair.

Already flattened land rounded, divided
-with the piles that arrived and, for to come.

More space is ready to accept new guests
-that arrive; and must be on the way.
-A man sits on the seat, chariot's
-goes around every pile
-singing song to mule: "Go forward."

Mule too, likes the sound and tune,
-goes and goes, pulls and pulls
-the wheels of cart sharp and of steel
-to cut sheaths, to free the wheat-seeds.

On the sides of the piles flattened to ground
-mixture of straw, hay and wheat and the men,
-hold in hands wooden forks; lifting mass,
-speedy throwing in air, up
-where breeze finds the time
-to kiss the hay pieces, like parent to the kids, for school
-tipsy and drunk of the wild love they fly
-ignoring sibling; golden wheat
-that are shy, fall right down on the ground
-and end up in silos, then to mills.

My warmest "Thank you" to them all for bread on table...