The sky is mine!

And a God who is nearby
Within these gillyflowers, at the foot of yonder lofty oak,
On the stream’s awareness, on the plant’s law

I am a Muslim
The rose is my Qebleh
The spring my prayer-carpet
The light, my prayer stone
The field my prostrate place
I take ablution with the heartbeat of windows
Moon flows into my prayer, gently it flows
The rock is visible from behind my prayer
All particles of my prayer are illuminated
I pray when the wind calls for prayer
From the cypress tree’s minaret
I practice my ritual when weeds say God is Greater
When wave raises

I went as to the party thrown by the world
I went to the field of sorrow
To the garden of mysticism
I went to the illuminated veranda of knowledge
I mounted the stairs of religion
To the end of the doubt’s alley,
To the cool air of independence
To the wet night of kindness
I went to visit somebody at the other side of love
I went and went up to the woman
To the lamp of pleasure
To the silence of desire
To the loud voice of loneliness

Life is a pleasant custom
Life wears wings as wide as death
It leaps to the dimensions of love
Life is nothing that might from my mind and your mind in the tip of habit’s shelf
Life is the attraction of a hand that reaps
Life is the first black fig in the acrid mouth of summer
Life is the dimension of a tree in the eyes of an insect
Life is the experience of bat in the darkness
Life is a strange sense experienced by a migrating bird
Life is the whistling of a train ringing in the sleep of a bridge
Life is like looking at a garden through the closed window of an airplane
The news of a rocket flying to the space
Touching the solitude of moon
The thought of smelling the flower in other planets

Where I am, let it be so
The sky is mine
The window, thought, air, love, earth is mine
What signifies?
If mushrooms of nostalgia
Sometimes grow?

Let’s not abuse moonshine if we suffer from fever
(Occasionally I have observed the moon descending during fever
And reaching the hand of the roof of heaven
I have noticed the goldfinch singing better
Sometimes the wound beneath my foot
Has taught the ups and downs of earth
Sometimes in my sickbed the dimension of the rose has multiplied
And the diameter of orange has increased, the radius of lantern too)

Kashan, Chenar Village, summer 1994


1 Comment

  1. Hunt said,

    June 28, 2006 at 2:42 pm

    Nice website you have here. Keep up the good work.


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