I want my dreams…
I envy the past poetry where beauties were what they were
Hope and dream and efforts
To get.
Ganjavi’s protagonist
Like many others’
Climbed the tree to see.
The girl was bathing
Her breasts compared with frits
Her body pear
Her hair…
And…
Now
I open the site
Along the beach I walk
Everything in open, on the screen
Write of painless tattoo and piercing with machine?
Then
They wrote of heavens and stars
The rain, snow and cloud…and flood
Now all are science, forecastable
I want my death
I want my rebirth
Not in future but
In the past yet
Being greedy, want both
I want the body in rag
I want the knowledge unwrapped
I want the beauty imagined
I want everything complicated and unreachable
I want my dreams…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem