You are like me, O luminous moon—
lonely and sorrowful,
sitting on your dark veranda.
...
It seemed
she had come out of grandmother's tales.
It was impossible for her not to be beautiful!
...
When I miss you,
I kiss the salty mouth of the sea.
The sea —
speaks with your accent.
...
Trout
You are like me, O luminous moon—
lonely and sorrowful,
sitting on your dark veranda.
Sit!
Sit and raise a cup
to the cup of sorrow.
And listen—
to the deep lament
of a bird
too broken to sing its own song.
You gave your heart
to the white blossom of a lily
in the mountain's hollow.
And this unseen bird—
to a tiny brook
evaporating in fear
of summer's heat.
And I—
I am a sorrowful trout
in the fish market,
missing my river
with all my heart.
— Ali Ehsani-Zadeh