“خوشا به حال گیاهان که عاشق نورند
و دست منبسط نور روی شانه آنهاست
همیشه فاصله ای هست
همیشه فاصله ای هست
دچار باید بود
وگرنه زمزمه حیرت میان دو حرف
حرام خواهد شد ”
―
و دست منبسط نور روی شانه آنهاست
همیشه فاصله ای هست
همیشه فاصله ای هست
دچار باید بود
وگرنه زمزمه حیرت میان دو حرف
حرام خواهد شد ”
―
“At the first light of the dawn
the loner knight asked:
"Do you happen to know-
the abode of The Beloved?"
The skies went silent,
save their mournful clouds,
save their falling stars.
The pilgrim gave up his glowing twig-
to the gloom of the sands-
and replied:
“Don’t you see that poplar tree?
Well, right before the tree,
There is a lane that you’ll reckon, I deem.
For it is greener than a heavenly dream,
For it is generously shaded-
with the deep blue’s of love.
Well, if you See!
So walk down that lane,
You’ll arrive to the garden of sense;
Turn to the direction of the loner lake;
Listen to the genial hymn of leaves;
Watch the eternal fountain-
that flows from the spring of ancient myths-
till you fade away-
In a plain fear.
When a rigid noise-
Clatters into the fluid intimacy of the space,
you'll find a child-
on the top of a tree-
next to the nest of owls-
in hope of a golden egg.
Well, if you See.
You may be sure: The Child will show you the way.
Well,
If you just ask about-
The Abode of The Beloved.”
―
the loner knight asked:
"Do you happen to know-
the abode of The Beloved?"
The skies went silent,
save their mournful clouds,
save their falling stars.
The pilgrim gave up his glowing twig-
to the gloom of the sands-
and replied:
“Don’t you see that poplar tree?
Well, right before the tree,
There is a lane that you’ll reckon, I deem.
For it is greener than a heavenly dream,
For it is generously shaded-
with the deep blue’s of love.
Well, if you See!
So walk down that lane,
You’ll arrive to the garden of sense;
Turn to the direction of the loner lake;
Listen to the genial hymn of leaves;
Watch the eternal fountain-
that flows from the spring of ancient myths-
till you fade away-
In a plain fear.
When a rigid noise-
Clatters into the fluid intimacy of the space,
you'll find a child-
on the top of a tree-
next to the nest of owls-
in hope of a golden egg.
Well, if you See.
You may be sure: The Child will show you the way.
Well,
If you just ask about-
The Abode of The Beloved.”
―
“روزی خواهم آمد،و پیامی خواهم آورد
در رگها ،نور خواهم ریخت.
و صدا خواهم در داد:ای سبدهاتان پر خواب!سیب آوردم
سیب سرخ خورشید”
― گزیده یی از اشعار سهراب
در رگها ،نور خواهم ریخت.
و صدا خواهم در داد:ای سبدهاتان پر خواب!سیب آوردم
سیب سرخ خورشید”
― گزیده یی از اشعار سهراب
Jafar’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Jafar’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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