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Guiti KhoshDel
Poems
Iran
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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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