With Needle Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

With needle

Hear me, I swear
I will change foundations.

Am no less than that ant
That taught the Timur lane
After loss and escape…

He is said to have won
Only when was at age
That men die, retire…

He was asked:
'How and why? '

He replied:
'I have learned…'

His teacher was an ant.

Ran away after loss,
Hid himself behind wall.

Saw an ant carry leg
Of hopper or locust.

'The leg was quite large
Times bigger than the ant
That was its carrier…'

Ant climbs on the wall
Goes little and then falls,
It repeats times and times…

'Finally succeeded,
That ant is my teacher,
I too, will with drill…'
Said Timur and he did.

Yes, I am no less than
The Timur and the ant
On the wall and by wall.

Hear me, I swear
I will change foundations.

My tools are
Pen, needle, and patience,
Practice in excess…

I am of origin
Where men go for searching
Of the truth, and learning…

Those who know the Rumi
Know 'Shams, ' the 'Tabrizi.'

Those who know further down
Must have heard of 'Salman, '
The Persian or Farsi…

Both the men, like many
Before them, and after,
Went far to cause changes,
So, hear me dear,
I will change foundations.

If needle is small and little
I dig with the patience
The deepest trenches
That use them as graves
To bury the borders.

Will erase all the walls
Between races, genders
And flags, and anthems
Enforced by evil power
Of the mean governments
That want us divided…

I will be Behrooz, Shams,
Devoted for oneness
Among all the members
Of mankind, regardless
Of the birth-name, place.