The meaning of my life, is to be with you Near, Far Satisfied, hungry, Free, captive, Sad, happy. That moment which without you passes, let there not be The significance of my death, In honoring you, beside you, Is the significance of life. The meaning of love too, In my destiny, With you, always with you, for you, to live.

A dove was nipping seeds, A weeping willow was dancing, A sparrow was building a nest, The Sun was watching. From atop the aspen trees, dawn was returning. With swallow's merriment, daytime was beginning. Nature's musicians freely lay on this wide-open grass, Making music in Dastan and Nava modes. The meadow was decorated like butterfly wings. The colorful butterfly of Spring flew here and there I've witnessed that in every particle of matter There's indeed someone's loving soul, someone's bright breath! This pure and caring soul is blown into all. This bright breeze pours out of earth's heart And blows on all. If eyes are to bout the visible and invisible keen, They would see the commotion within this scene. The sun, like a mother, full of kindness, gleams. Down the sky's pure mirror, light streams. The earth's heartbeats to the same tune as Time. Sound waves of music of growth! O, what joyful chime! Clouds arrive, full of giving and self-sacrifice. Bestow their necklaces to the fields of rice! So that grass may sing refreshed, river cries. To turn sap into rosewater, water tries! Soil toils to let seeds sprout! Wind dances so buds may sing aloud! Bird sings so that rock is not alone, Sun strives to make amber from the stone! From afar, grapevine steals kisses from the sun, in hundreds. So that sheaves of grapes may grow, in hundreds! Cedar helps the newly rising morning glory Climb up her branches. Blissful are those who worship sun and earth For there's only love and kindness, no hostilities, no hatred. Suddenly, tears well up in my eyes I choke in my burning chest, ah! But why then can we not be this way? Come to our Senses and wish : to be humans.

Face to face with darkness, Standing erect, All alone, all night. In its words, light. On its tongue, fire. On its lips, a cry: The candle. It swells its flames if they raze its head! Darkness is lost when candles are lit. Erect – like the candle – will there stand, Face to face with darkness, One person in this crowd?

It is rooted in the depth of the ocean - perhaps - This tussle-haired Wild willow rain. Or no, it resembles a sea, upturned above the city, The city of the downhearted. When rain pours, There takes root in me a persistent question, with Trepidation The color of these nights of horror, Can it wash from the hearts of friends? Eyes and springs are dry, Light has faded into dismal dark, As have names in shame! All that surrounds us is drowned in fraud. O rain, O life's hope of the wakeful, Over tyrannies – in the whirlpool of which we are Forever drowned – Will you vanquish?

Indeed, if someday, someone asks me, "During your time on Earth, what did you do? I'll open my book of verse before him, I'll hold my head up, laughing and crying, I'll say that this seed is “newly sown." It needs time to come to fruition and bloom. Under this vast cerulean sky, With all my might, in every song, I evoked the revered name of love. Perhaps, by this weary voice, An oblivious someone was awakened, Somewhere in the four corners of this world. I praised kindness, I battled against wickedness. I suffered the “wilting of a single stem of flower." I grieved the "death of a caged canary,” And, for people's Sorrows, I died a hundred times a night. I'm not ashamed if at times, When one ought to have screamed from deep within, With Jesus-like patience, I kept my silence. If I were to arm myself with a sword, To fight against the ignorant, Blame me not for taking the road to love. A Sword in hand implies, A man may meet his demise. We were passing through a bleak road, Where the darkness of ignorance was devastating! My belief in humanity was my torch! The Sword was in devil's hand! Words were my only weapon in this battlefield! Even if my poetry could not kindle a fire in anyone's mind, My heart, like firewood, burned from both sides. Read a page from my book of verse, and you may say: Can anyone burn worse than him?! Many endless nights, I did not sleep, To retell humanity's message from man to man. In the thorny land of animosity, My words were a breeze from the land of peace. But, perhaps they should've been a mighty windstorm, To uproot all this wickedness. Our elders had advised us in the past: "It is too late...too late... The soul of the Earth is so dark, Our strength, multiplied by hundred, Is no more than a lonely cry in a desert so vast!” "Another Noah, there must be, Another great storm, too." The world must be built anew, New humans within it, too.” Yet, this patient, solitary man, Carrying his backpack full of fervour, Still strides along, To draw a glimmer of light from the heart of this darkness, He places the candle of a poem here and there, He still hopes for the miracle that is man.

O mankind, what occupies you in this world? How are you spending this precious life? If all there is in the world you attain, You have naught if you don't have love. Pity you, if your heart to love you don't entrust. Even if you reach the stars, all will be worthless. Express love, Give love!

Can there be anything, More precious than eyes and hearts? -Hands! Indeed, more precious than eyes and hearts: hands! Of all the seen and unseen gems, Incarnate in body and soul, The most precious, no doubt, Are hands. All the gains of life are seized by hand! Everything in this world, Everything on this Earth, Is ruled under someone's hand! Have you heard of such a reign?! Hands are ruling the World! Noble are the hands! If only for what they're tasked to do My most beloved deed in life; Writing! In the deepest of plights, In the gravest of grieves, Many a time have I called out to myself? “Take heart!” “You may have nothing, but you still have your hands!" Remember Bisotun? Put your hands to work, To move a mountain like a blade of hay. And, what an amazing force, Is in hands that are connected to one another! If ever one is defeated, Surely, his hands must've been tied! To be hand in hand with Someone; Union of two Souls To be hand in hand with Someone; Pledge of two lovers! If you're hand in hand with another, You sense the exchange of words From one friend's hand to the other. The fleeting touch of a physician's hand, Laid with care on a patient's forehead, Heals better than any prescribed remedy! As you rise up dancing, Waiving your hands in the air, It's the flag of joy you're raising, With the flag that is your hand, Sorrow's army you're defeating! Hands are the treasure-chest of love and art: Be it on the frets of an instrument, Be it on the shoulder of a friend, Be it on the portrait on a canvas, Be it on the gear of a wheel, Be it on the handle of a sickle, Be it extended to help the blind, Be it in building a better tomorrow! What keeps tormenting my heart? Compounding my other bitter gloom, Is humanity's fate and doom! Regret and pain weigh heavily upon our hearts, For our bullets have reached their targets, But our hands have yet to reach out to one another.

In a glass tumbler, a mosquito landed, To drink whatever had been abandoned. Playfully, a mischievous child, Covered the rim with his hand! The mosquito dropped what he'd grabbed, Jumped to free himself from the child's trap. Baffled and thirsty, kept searching for a way out, But, in all directions, his way had been blocked. To search for an opening in the barrier, he strived, To be free again, he tried and tried. No matter how he struggled with all his might, He could not find a way out of that dike. Time after time, his head against the wall, he pounded, Till he fell down, his wings bloody and wounded. Yes, life was dear and food was delicious, Yet, liberty was more precious.

Dark is the horizon, Confined is the world, Hopelessness drains our might, These, I know. Yet, to move towards the light, Surrounded by the dark, Is such a delight! Did you know? In darkness, let the joy of light push you forth, Worry not over tormenting sorrows! For free birds, in garden born, - Though filled with songs of liberty - The joy of deliverance, have never known. And, the hardy breed, in brightness bred, Know not what awaits them at darkness’ end: Light's splendor!

One can smash the belly of this lute. One can slash the strings of this lyre. One can decree: “Hear ye, hear ye!” “The grand drum.” “Must remain silent from now on!” Yet, to a lark, One cannot tell: “You may not sing!”

Behind a dilapidated cart, Someone had written: “I have searched. It wasn't! Don't search. It isn't!” This weary Verse, Repeated in me a thousand times again and again. My eyes Wept for Such perplexity. Like a friend I would sit it down before me, And to the court of debate I would draw it: Are you searching for the elixir of life? In this infinite darkness? In hope of mercy? Justice? In search of love? Friendship? ... We too have searched. "And the Sheikh, a lamp in his hand, continued Searching..." Like him are you too hoping for humanity?! If you are tired, stay, and if you want, know that: For us all pleasure of life is in searching. To seek is all of life's significance. Never “Don't search! It isn't!” is deserving of man…  

With me, I carry the memory of a most inspiring day. I'll bestow it upon you: Early dawn, it was. The jewel that is moon, Still dangled from night's hair. What jasmine had poured into the soul of the air, Was love! Our breaths, jasmine's and mine, had become one. I was going to visit the dawn! With wide-open wings, I was striding along, Saying to myself: “Oh! “Compose, you yearning heart, compose! Witness this most inspiring day in the world! Compose the most passionate poem in the world! “Dawn, moon, jasmine, breeze, and sky, Have poured a soul into the world’s body, Have kindled ardour and fervour in you, You, too, lonely little bird, compose!” “All the doors are shut, There's no way out To open a window to flowing words, compose! Compose...” I was in search of the most passionate poem in the world! On the horizon, behind light's inner sanctum Gardens of red roses were Spreading, Their branches towards the tender sun Their charming buds were blooming. With each breath of the new dawn, The buds were blooming. The buds were blooming, Gardens of red roses, Gardens of red roses, Then like that Sweet moment, When your smile blooms like a flower, From the heart of the Sea, A great red rose, arose; The sun! O what glow it was bestowing upon the world! O what glory...! The whole world woke up to watch! I was in search of the most passionate poem in the world! Side by side, up in the sky, Two doves were flying by. In a garden, two spruce trees, Their heads bent towards one another, We're whispering ballads in each other's ears. From a distant shore, A seagull and his mate, We're heading towards the light's gate. In my mind's meadow, too, From a kernel of love, Deep in the inner sanctum of my heart, A bud was blooming, - Like a gift-offering - The petals were gradually opening! The petals opened: “I’ve found it! I've found what I had been seeking!” I've adorned t with the blossoming of the sun, I've adorned it with the flowering of your smile!" I've woven it better than a fabric of jasmine and dawn! The wrap and weft of mine are goodness and love, I've found the most passionate poem in the world: “I Love You!' "This is my red rose! Fill your apron with these roses, So that you may offer them as gifts to people, Take one to the house of a foe, Bestow one upon a friend!" “The secret of happiness is to spread them!” “People's hearts, all over the world, I swear, Will be filled with light, Will be filled with soul.” You, too, my dear one! Must repeat this time after time! Not just once, not even ten, Must repeat it one hundred times! “Do you love me?” Ask this of me, many a time! “I love you!” Tell this to me, many a time!

Sitting beside me, conversing, Was an image of you, When once more, an enchanting pleasant perfume, Like the rising of the Sun, Announced your arrival at my quiet abode. As your crystalline scent filled the room, It made my soul, and the entire world, Float in floral fragrance. At the door, You resembled the spirit of rain, O, you, pure freshness. Your face glowed with the glory of absolute compassion, You said, playfully: "I don't want to see you all alone!" I said: "Am I not left with your sorrow and endless nights?" Suddenly a Star, Blazed the night with a flash of a light, And vanished in the fluid blackness of the sky. You gazed at this failed sunrise, In your eyes, a thousand questions growing. I said, ironically: “There's a secret in this sunset: Stars are not kind to me, For I only have eyes for you.” You sat down, then, Sweetly and kindly, you said: "Why can't this uncaring Earth see That the sky has let you be with me for a day?!" O, how many moments passed in that strange state, It was the shining of the sun and the offering of the moon! It was the shimmering of a rainbow and the singing of the Soul, It was music, flight, ecstasy and Song, With each breath, my heart in my chest would scream: O, you wild dove! Stay with me...Stay!" There were stars falling from the sky, There were blossoms breaking off branches, There were violets coming out of rocks! From atop morning's tower, dawn was shining, There was your crystalline scent. You were gone and the night was gone, And, I was melancholic. In sky’s first light, I watched how everlasting they are; Earth, wind, fire and water. A dry, bare branch of ivy from the wall, Had been tossed on the window by the breeze, To play the sad story of autumn for me, Without you. Not the sky, nor the trees, Not the night, nor the window. Ah! No one knew, That the fire and blood of love, Is an eternal flower, Forever with me.  

Without you, one moonlit night, Again I walked down that alley. I was all eyes, gazing in search of you. The yearning to see you teemed in my soul. I became the mad lover that I was. In the haven of my soul, the flower of your memory blossomed, The garden of a hundred souvenirs laughed, The perfume of a hundred recollections spread. I remembered that night when together we walked down that alley. We spread our Wings and strolled in cherished solitude. For an hour we sat by that brook. You, with a world of secrets in your dark eyes. I, all mesmerized by your eyes. The sky was clear and the night quiet, Fortune was smiling and the time tame, Moonlight floating on the water, Boughs reaching up to the moon, Night and meadow and flower and rock, All captivated by the nightingale's song. I remember you said: "Shun this love! For a few moments look onto this water. Water is the mirror of fleeting love. You, whose eyes are today impatient for a glance; Tomorrow, your heart will be with another! To forget, leave this town for a time!" I said: “Shun love? I will not. Travel away from you? Never. Never! That first day, when my heart with the desire of you took wing, Like a dove, I perched on your rooftop. You cast a Stone at me, I did not scare, I did not fly ..." Again I said: “You are the hunter and I the deer in the meadow. To fall in your trap, I have roamed and roamed everywhere. I will not shun love, I cannot!” A teardrop fell from a bough, The night owl bitterly moaned and took flight … Teardrops quivered in your eyes, The moon smiled at your love! I remember: You did not answer. I wrapped myself in Sorrow. I did not leave, I was not scared. In the darkness of sorrow, passed that night and other nights too. And you did not seek your tormented lover, And you did not walk down that alley... How I felt, walking down that alley, without you!

Removing the sky’s crown from its summit, Wearing that crown for eternity. Gaining entry to the paradise of desire, Raising nectar-filled goblets with each breath. Days spent in plenty and pleasure, Nights spent embracing a beauty. At dawn, from atop the world, like sunlight, Illuminating the face of the universe. At dusk, like the dream-maker, moon, Charming heavens and stars. Like Saba' in “the sky’s green meadow.” Fluttering wings alongside the doves. Attaining the nobility and splendor of Solomon, Gaining the glory and grandeur of Alexander. Forever living at the height of power, Seizing the realm of existence. I'll bestow all upon you, For what delights me more, if for a mere moment, Is the pleasure of having a mother.  

The scent of rain, the scent of lawn, the scent of soil, Boughs washed, rained on, clean. Blue sky and white cloud, The green leaves of willow. The perfume of narcissus, dance of the wind, The joyful songs of happy Swallows, The intimate coner of love birds... Little by little spring’s approaching Lucky world! Lucky springs and deserts, Lucky seeds and fields, Lucky the half-opened buds, Lucky the daughter of carnation - who coquettishly Laughs - Lucky the goblet brimming with wine, Lucky the sun. O my heart, although in this world You don't dress in the ornate garb of your desire, You don't drink rich wine from the goblet, Sweetbreads and fine herbs are not amid your spread, Your glass of that wine which it should - is empty, Alas if you don't dance like a flower with the breeze! Alas if the sun does not overjoy me! Alas if we are not gratified by the spring! If the jar of sorrow you do not strike against Stone, Its seven shades will become seventy!

Fill this cup! For it's been a long time since this fiery water, Has remedied my miserable mood! These goblets, emptied one after the other, Are oceans of fire that I pour down my throat, While whirlpools lure me, currents don't take me away. Riding on this magical nectar's wild bay, I've traveled the vast realm of the mind. I've gone to the starry field of sincere thoughts, To the unknown line between life and death, To the tree-covered alleyways of fleeting memories, To the city of remembrances... Even wine no longer takes me beyond my bedside! O, eagle of love! From above the faraway misty mountaintops, Fly here to the gloomy grassland of my life! Come and deliver me where this wine no longer takes me. I'm that ill-starred man whom even the eagle won't carry away! In the road of life, With all its struggles, pleadings and thirst, Eventhough I moan from deep in my heart: "Water...! Water...!" Not even deceit takes me to a mirage anymore! Fill this cup!

With stems of narcissus, Candle, light and mirror, Crystal bowl and gold fish I take Now-ruz to the silent house. Though The rainbow of a smile Is not at the threshold of the house. Though At the dawn of spring, In town there is no Song. Candle, light, mirror and flower, Are springs of joy. Or according to Hafiz: “A medley of desires.” But inside this crystal confine, a frightened fish is captive! Even if its water is as clean as teardrops. Even if in its crystal bowl, Are songs of the mirror, Flights of light! In the company of candle, narcissus, mirror and light, This frightened fish, In a daily search, in the small bowl - With anxious eyes – Goes round and round, But a gateway to freedom, It does not find! I, from the gaze of the fish, in the confines of the bowl, Grow restless. And from the shame of the cruelty done to this thirsty, Before his gaze I seem to melt! Like the wind, swiftly, I leap up. The prisoner of the crystal wall I take to the cistern of the silent house. Gentler than a leaf I bestow it to the water! From the joy of freedom, I see, In that open space, it flies! Free, fast, lighthearted, Drunk with joy, it coquettes before the World! To absorb the delight of that nectar, With great Zeal it opens its mouth! Even if The walls of the pool have greened with algae, The footbaths are damaged, broken, And that wretched foul water in these bitter days Is growing weeds! This cistern if not of crystal, This water if not as clear as teardrops, It is his world, his country. Here, all that floats within Is joined with every particle of him. O distant mirage, How you deceive us, With that crystal and light!  

From this scorched and thirsty desert you will one day Migrate, And my tears will bid you farewell. Your eyes are bitter and sad. Your heart is wounded by thorns of despair. The sorrow of this destitution has sapped your body of strength! You, with blood and sweat, Gave color and life to this withered jungle. You, with bare hands, battled with those destructive Storms. For you, journey from this earth is the wresting of heart from life! You, with each leaf of this lawn are secretly united This oppressive pitiless rainless cloud, These successive years of drought, The faithlessness of friends, A the hypocrisy of the humane, Wore you out! The ominous howl of the jackals, The constant cry of the crows, Exhausted you. You with your pure and gentle brow, that from the far side of the wheat field, Its magnificent dawning is more pleasing than a hundred crowns of the Sun; You with your cheeks burned by the desert Sun, You with your face glowing from the blaze of honor, - That in my eyes is more majestic than a hundred Jam-e Jamshids – You with eyes brimming with sorrow - That once were torrid springs of joy – And that now regret and remorse have overshadowed, Will leave. And my tears will bid you farewell! Here, I am rooted in earth. Here, I am in love with this land, proper or untainted. Here, I will stay for as long as I have breath. What do I want from this place? I don’t know! Though the hope for light is not in this darkness, Here I will stay on this scorched and thirsty desert. Here I will someday at last, from the heart of this earth, Sow flowers with empty hands. Here I will someday at last, from the peak of the mountain, like the sun, Sing the anthem of victory. And I know, You will one day return!

A tenacious Wolf, said a wise man once, Is hidden deep within each of us. Hence, an immense daily struggle is ongoing, Between the wolf and the human being. Might alone will not this wolf subdue, One with intellect would know what to do. Many a man, weak and grieved, Have their wolves by the throat seized. And, many a man, courageous and strong, Have been trapped in their wolves' claws for long. Whoever defeats his wolf, gradually, Becomes a wholesome man, eventually. And, one who's always defeated by his wolf, May appear to be human, but he's a wolf! And, one with whose wolf he will conspire, Wolf-like nature he will acquire. When you're young, your Wolf's life you must take, To let him grow old with you is a grave mistake, Even a lion of a man when he's old, Is no match for a wolf who's grown old. Whenever people tear each other apart, Wolves are their guide and steward. Why humans are in so much pain? Because it's their wolves who have the reign. And, tyrants who keep one another in confidence, Their wolves are each other's acquaintance. Alliance of the wolves, estrangement of the men, Of this strange state, to whom may one complain?  

They ask: What is there in the vague murmurings of water? What is there in the winsome flurry of leaves? What is there in the frolic of that white cloud, On this tranquil blue up high? That takes you so to the depths of thought? What is there in the quiet refuge of doves? What is there in the fruitless toil of waves? What is there in the laughter of the goblet? That you for hours, dazed and bewildered, gaze? Not of the cloud, Not of the Water, Not of the leaves, Not of this tranquil blue up high, Not of this quiet refuge of doves, Not of this burning fire that has crept into the goblet; I do not think of such things. The silent prayer of the trees at dawn, The dance of the winter-honeysuckle's perfume with the wind, The innocent breath of the peony on the mountainside, the Swallow's conversation with the morning, The eternal pulse of life in the wheat field, The flow of color and glow on the cheeks of the flower; All of it I hear, I see. I do not think of such things! I think of you. O you all goodness. All alone, I think of you. All the time, Everywhere, In whatever state I may be, I think of you. Know this, only you, know this! Come, Stay with me, only you, stay with me! Instead of the moon, come shine on the darkness of the night. I will be your sacrifice, instead of all the flowers come laugh. Now that I have fallen again at your feet Make a rope of that long hair, Seize me, Bind me! You, answer the Swallows! You, read the story of the cloud in the sky! You, stay with me, only you, stay with me! You, rage in the heart of life's goblet! Only this one breath remains of the nectar of my life. Drink the last drop of this empty goblet!