I do not think of prayer-mats,
But I do think of a hundred roads
Which pass through a hundred gardens
full of silk-tassel trees;
I know the Kibla;
It has its place where happiness is;
And I say daily prayers
On the Silk Roads,
With the music of sparrows.
I do not know what Affection means,
Or what can be the difference
between one land and the other.
Aloneness is what I call Happiness
And desert is what I call Home,
And whatever makes me sad I call Love.
To me a five-pound note means Wealth;
I describe anyone who picks a flower
as Blind;
And in my eyes a net,
that separates the fish from water,
is a Murderer.
I look at the sea with envy
And say to myself:
"How small you are!"
Perhaps the sea
Also feels the same
When it joins the ocean!
I do not know what is Night,
But Day is what I understand well.
To me a flower-bush is a Village
And a short walk in the gardens
of memories, Freedom,
And any meaningless smile, Joy.
To me anybody who has a cage
in his possession
is a Gaoler;
And I see any thought
that may remain useless in my mind,
as a Wall;
To me a ring is Bondage.
I do not think of prayer-mats,
But I do think of a hundred roads
Which pass through a hundred gardens
full of silk-tassel trees.
- Mina Asadi (Persian Poetess)
1 comment:
ah, the life of the unshackled...
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