The Wind's Footfall

I am a native of Iran.
My life is not so bad.
I have a piece of bread, an iota of intelligence
and a bit of wit.
I have a mother better than a leaf, a father tougher than a bough
and a sister wetter than a dew.
I have friends, cleaner than limpid rain.
I know a girl, her face shinning like the Moon
a burly man, his heart as fragile as the stem of a rose.
I praise my aunt’s life
a home standing there, out of shadows of despair
a plain house with simple furniture,
but a feel of being the richest of the men.

I have a God who is nearby.
I am a Muslim

I see Kheybar in my dreams
I am acquainted with the moan and the well‘s the dialogue.
Scene of a horse without a rider, cries of ‘thirst’,
like a desert burning sun melt my pleasures.

I adore peace and love
I believe in the miracle of smile
I am waiting for the mirror time
I look forward
to approaching of day
to increasing of colors
to the echo of a red rose
beyond the Hedge of Harsh Words.


I am a native of Iran
I had a nice brother
who incapable of bearing whiteness of the paper
drew a picture on my dreams:
A pair of boots with undone laces,
with an evoking call:
‘Death is not the end of pigeon’
And now always
I can hear some one whispering in my ear:
“Sunrise is not an accident, dear!”

I am an undergraduate
Passion for flight is piled up in my wings
Enthusiasm for union seeps out of my heart
Desire for observation in my eyes, ears hungry for songs
Crave to devour light opens my mouth.
I won’t lose heart
swallows will come.


I got born in a snowy day,
my mother say
eyes filled with green color, brushed by a picture of trees
hands clenched as they feared to lose
and a breath with smelling of apple’s odor

Like all the other babies
,haunted by the cold air,
I had burst to tears.

Then the era of the kites, era of dolls and the balls
era of red fish of joy’s jigging in water-bottle of Norouz
era of celebrating Thursday eves.

Gradually, the child tiptoed away in the alleyway
of dragonflies.
I packed my things, leaving the town of light fantasies.
My heart heavy with the nostalgia for dragonflies.

And now
I am in a way
I am in trace,
Seeking own self

I eat, I sleep
I read, I think
I sing,
I fall in Love,
I live.

I fight,
I lose and win.
I am always swinging
between hope’s light and despair’s dim.

I sometimes sing the songs of victory and glory
I sing “Life is the beauty”.
And some times sorrow and grief
I declare that “Life is not shiny”
Always there exists a scratch on the sense’s face.

I know
beyond the seas there is a town
there is my final everlasting home
though I can’t hide my fear of the door.

Life is not empty:
Kindness, Apples, Faith.

A voice is calling me
A voice is calling me from afar

I am always traveling.



By Narges,

With a deep gratitude to Sohrab Sepehri whose poems were the fountain of inspiration for mine, his verses are written in blue.