باغ آينه
The
A lamp in my hand, another in front of
me,
I march to war with darkness.
The cradles of exhaustion
Have stopped rocking,
Tired of traffic
And a sun from deep inside
Enlightens
The constellations that have turned into
ashes.
The revolting roar of the
thunder
When the hail
Gets impregnated
Within the uneasy womb of the
cloud
And the silent pain of vine
tree
When the unripe little grape
Blossoms at the end of the long twisted
branch,
My cry was to escape from
pain,
Because I was seeking the sun with a hopeless
prayer in the middle of the most horrible night.
You have descended from suns, from the breaking
twilights,
You have descended from the mirrors and
silks.
In a void atmosphere where neither God nor fire
existed,
I'd sought your gaze and confidence with a hopeless
prayer.
A serious affair,
Between two deaths
Within the void atmosphere of two
solitudes
(Such is your gaze and
confidence).
Your joy is ruthless yet
magnanimous,
In my empty hands your breath strikes like song and
greenness.
I shell rise!
A lamp in my hand,
A lamp in my heart,
I scrub the rust off my soul.
I will set a mirror in front of
yours
To build eternity
Out of you,
Out of you.