Moccasin
Like the mist of cascade she landed
Like the fogs and clouds she landed
Masked vision of the curves
She covered the hills-heights
Like angels of the sun was mirage
Bare her feet; pilgrimage in shrine
Like dervish, like Sufi, covered head by Namad
Kashkool sat on shoulder; Tabarzin in one hand
Closed-rose were her lips water-song the sacred
Sure expert, doubtlessly hit drum and then sang
Muslim-like wearing shawl; in center a drum
As if is her Mecca; Al-Aswad Cubic, Central
And beaters held sticks cried out nostalgia
Grandpas', grandmas', children all around
I could see Shams - Rumi; Hoo-Ya_Haq
Maanavi in blood with Hallaj, Anal-Haq
But in fact we were guests
And the host, First Nations
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem