Within these alleyways so dark
I dread doubts and matches.
I dread the cemented surface of century.
Come so I may not fear the towns whose black earth is pasture to cranes.
Open me like a gate towards a pear’s fall in the age of steel’s rise.
Lull me to sleep under a branch far from the nocturnal collision of metals.
Call me if the dawn-mine discoverer comes
And I will wake up in the rise of a lilac flower from behind your fingers.
And then
Speak of the bombs that fell while I was sleeping.
Of the cheeks wet with tears while I was sleeping.
Tell me how many ducks flew over the sea
When the tanks trod on childhood dreams.
To whose foot of repose did the canary tie the yellow string of its song?
Tell me what innocent stuffs were unloaded at ports.
What science discovered the positive music of powder’s odour
What knowledge oozed out of the unknown taste of bread in the Mouth of Prophecy?
Then, I, like a faith warmed by equaterial sun
Will set you at the threshold of an orchard.
Free consultation, introducing budget travel services, operating different tours in Iran, local guides, traditional foods, transfer and women’s trip with security.
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