The crescent moon, sorrowful,
Slipped behind a cloud.
The sea, in fear,
Called upon a shore for aid.
And the river, in the veins of the mountain,
Crept slowly.
Dawn
Splashed a crimson hue
Upon the face of the horizon.
An anxious stranger
Asked for a traveler's sign.
A lark suddenly
Flew from its cage.
A trigger obeyed a command.
And a cry of pain
Swallowed the heavy silence of the wall.
The neigh of thunder
Echoed in the plain.
The wind escaped its bonds.
And the river,
In an uproar,
Poured its dormant rage
Into the bosom of the valley.
A little girl, farther away,
Wailing,
Beat her chest.
Night,
Weary,
With the nightmare of morning,
Arrived.
And the starless sky
Donned mourning attire.
Arsalan - Tehran
January 27, 2025
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