Spring
Rides on the graceful steed of the wind
And steals the darkness of the plain
With a green melody
It adorns
The nakedness of acacia and lilac
With a robe of blossoms
So that
With the blush of young girls' cheeks
It may interpret the dreams of the poppies
Day
Sprinkles the milky clarity of the moonlight
On the crown of the horizon
The city
Limping
Pulls the black veil of night
From its head, and
The sun
Drapes a gown, patterned with daffodils and violets
Over the wounded body of the earth
The soil still
Yearns for rain
So it may play a tune
With the flowing soul of the river
The high peak of freedom
Melts with the fire of lightning
And draws another image
On the unwritten canvas of fate
Spring, too, this year
Blooms in the heart of ruin
A ruin long stricken
By the obsession of a mirage
And asks the breeze
For a sign of your presence
Arsalan - Tehran
(March 22, 2023)
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