Hazy Horizon Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Hazy horizon

My life is "Sun of dusk"
-hazy its horizon; not much left…

Behind me mass of land and water
-of dreams and actions as rivers
-making endless oceans.

Therefore, I, am as said:
- "The old sees in adobe
-what youth sees in mirror."

Reflect the past to now
-as if a prism of crystal.

Shades of light broken into rays
-enlarged and magnified in colours.

Small boy was born into village
-no doctor, medicine, but nature.

The mid-wife, if any, and by chance
-simply was sister or friend, a woman
-who felt pain because was in same lane.

Then after, little child of mountains
-kept living in dreams with questions
-moving out as "Moses in basket"
-with breeze and the waves of water
-to attend a long, long travel …

Broke Jinny's bottle…

But still, I see walls
-of adobe, on them mud
-and in times plastered
-plain white and simple…

In the walls sat oil lamps
-cotton wick, smoke in the glass
-and flames always danced
-painting roof and sidewalls.

I recall
I recall
I recall

Rooster was the clock and alarm
-as were lamb when they called
-for mothers to feed them
-with stock of the milk in breast
-and leak them.

Heard donkey join the race
-when calling the master
- "Bring my beet and hay…"

Oh, it was sort of life
-special; one of kind.

Asiab and Hammam
-Sarkh and joob and Poshta
-Kharman and Choon, Hana
-Vazagh, choori, Roobah
-Qopi and Daval-pa…

I recall
I recall
I recall

All of them are in me
-though for long, have been out…

Some of what we had were
-excellent, excellent, excellent

Some were sickening, disaster
-disaster, disaster, disaster…

Among bad I can see
-the abuse and taking advantage…
-by shamans and mullahs
- (making up stories; always lied!)

But knowledge brings pain…