Guiti KhoshDel
Poems
Iran

Translated to English by Manavaz Alexadrian

O you whose songs
are slender than the fern's capillaries!
fill your tresses down
so that stars
can sit on my shoulders.

I wanted to lay my head on your shoulders,
but the autumnal blast
threw your branch down.

If you possess a thousand bodies,
fly now and
spray your tresses over my poem
before the willow's hair
turn gray.



I toss the earth away,
I don't want to be buried;
the child inside me
calls me to life.

I know your shows,
(it is) a golden piece
or an autumnal leaf
which stands between two seasons.


Violet Temple
I'm snow and pour over pines,
I'm laughter and sing through the swallow's throat,
I'm fire temple,
I celebrate love.

I have not yet stepped from past five thousand back
into this year
and have not yet lifted my head from my shoulders.

Amid all this perfume and song,
how can I find him?
Break the temple locks,
don't be deceived by the closed doors,
he continues to sit on his five thousand old throne*

Love is short lived,
my aspiration is sublime;
I will pull the sun down,
so you can wear it
and dance with me,
madder than ever.


The Flowers of Poetry
wither so quickly,
in my empty palms.
Spray rose-water over my words,
water lilies,
move aside from my path,
moats are bowing,
open your arms,
I have brought a basket of flower
from her vernal glance.




It is not an accident
that your ethereal capillaries
carry
the basket of words.
+Amid the mountain's cells
was this Transparency
you or me?
You
scratch the rocks,
but he is not there ,
He is dwelling in our hearts.
O purple truth,
throw your robe
Over dreams of midnight!

As if the goddess of love
in a distant garden corner
is playing with my destiny.



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