Talking in the air
As if I, am soldier
Of Hassan
Of Sabbah
Of Hashshash
I see world through wine
Not goblet, vase or jar
But an urn, a barrel
And acid…a pool of
And clouds are friends
All of us are drunk
Weightless and, aimlessly
We fly, and go round
I stop, if only
I could, can
And look up
In sky
Jealously
See clouds with speed
Are in rush
I question:
“Headed to? ”
No reply
They fly and go by
To them I
Don’t exist
“Hey…”
I shout and then sigh.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem