Our Village Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Our village

I was born in time that
-fat burning for the light was over
-kerosene had come with glasses that
-burned with much smoke and were called
-the Lampa, Cheragh-bad…

The main source of light were
-Sun in days
-Moon at nights
-or can say: the sky!

The farms and the plains were filled of
-crops and veggies and the trees
-animals and shepherds
-with meat, wool
-hair, mohair
-tons of milk from
-the goats and sheep
-and their by-products
-with women boiling pots
-turning the yogurt to butter
-then a long list of other products
-the healthily after-work-men had spin
-make threads for their ropes and weaving!

One could see life was there
-people of all ages
-from the in-mothers
-to those of over a hundred!

"Now we are…all of us…forty eight! "
-said cousin that I called
-and called back
-he must be seventy eight
-and he is returnee for his health
-polluted city air has sent him to village
-light is there on wires, telephone, internet
-and the life with technique is great but no men
-no young soul to use it…

Everyone who lives is old and sick and in line for grave!