A poem by Sohrab Sepehri (سهراب سپهری)
Translated by Mortez
A boat I will shape,
and will let free into the sea,
will go farther away from this bizarre land,
where nobody, in its forests of love,
pulls the heroes out of sleep.
A boat, free of sail.
and will shape away heart
from the dream of pearl
Neither I will lie with blues,
Nor seas- water fairies,
whose heads are on surface,
who enchant from the spring of their hairs
on fishermen’s sunlight of lonely dares.
will run so
will sing so:
shall go far, farther away.
The men of that land had no tales.
The women were not as cheerful as a cluster of grapes.
No chamber of mirrors doubled the drinking spree.
Even water didn’t set a torch fire-free.
shall go far, farther away.
night sang its song, it’s time for the windows’ play.
will run so.
will sing so.
Beyond the sea, there is a city,
where the windows are open to expressions.
and the roofs are homes for pigeons
who watch the fountain of the human mind.
In the hands of each ten year old child, is a flower of knowledge.
People of the city see a bait, like a flame, a soft dream.
The earth hears the music of your feeling,
and calls in wind, story-telling birds’ wing.
Beyond the sea, there is a city,
where the sun extents to the size of daybreakers’ eyes.
Poets heir water and wisdom and light.
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