Laying a cloth cover, for the praying stone
A white dove is sleeping there
I give her a kiss
Then, she goes to dead goat's thorn,
to say night's prayers of a desert.
Like ever ,the aroma of a stew you have made,
made with offering stars' meat,
attracted All moths to your fingers
Though,your song is imprisoned in the clay pots,
which are filled With springs, and old lanterns
Now after years
within the winds only the elegy Of sheep and
Lost camels can be heard.
The white dove is sitting nearby,
on your gravestone
we are praying,
suddently,
From corners to corners
Ears of wheat resembled your eyes'color blooming.
I need your critical comment to revise this poem?
Comments
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I understand that these poems must have been originally written in Farsi? But if they are not, I must say these are very beautifully written poems and takes me to a place you relate about. Very descriptive and soothing to the mind.
Lencio
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