Sunday, November 18, 2007

A Tale of Two Cities

A tale of two cities; a tale of two lovers, what an irony!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of understanding, it was the age of innocence; it was the period of belief, it was the time of disbelief; it was the season of happiness, it was the season of misery; it was the spring of confidence, it was the winter of agony; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going direct to paradise, we were all going the other way.

Another chapter in my life.

4 comments:

  1. So so, many thanks for the chapter, it was very beautiful.

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  2. "The Foot Steps Of Water"
    by Sohrab Sepehri

    Life's a pleasant tradition.
    Life's wing is as vast as death.
    Life's a jump the size of love.
    Life's not something,
    we put on the mantel of habit
    and forget.

    It does not matter where I am.
    The sky is always mine.
    Windows, ideas, air, love,
    earth, all mine.
    Why does it matter if sometimes,
    the mushrooms of nostalgia grow?

    Let's take off our clothes.
    Water is just a foot away.
    Let's have a basket and
    fill it up with all the greens
    and all the reds.

    We are not to comprehend;
    the secret of roses, but maybe
    swimming in the incantation of roses.
    Or may be looking for
    the song of truth
    between the morning glory,
    and the century.

    Translated by: Mahvash Shahegh

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  3. Nobody Does It Better... makes me sad for the rest... Spy who love me...

    ReplyDelete
  4. "Night of Pleasant Loneliness"
    by Sohrab Sepehri

    Listen, the world's farthest bird is singing.
    The Night is fluid, whole, and open.

    Geraniums
    And the loudest branch of the season, hear the moon.

    Stairs in front of the building,
    Door with lantern in hand,
    And the lavish breeze,

    Listen, the road is calling your steps from afar.
    Your eye is not the darkness's ornament.
    Shake your eyelids, put on your shoes and come.
    Come until the moon's feather alerts you
    And Time sits with you on a lump of earth
    And the psalms of night, absorbs your body
    Like a piece of music.

    There is a pious man there who will tell you:
    The best thing is to come upon a look that is still moist with love's advent.

    Translated by Mahvash Shahegh

    ReplyDelete