When the sunset reads the legend
And the last summer lights are yellow, orange and red
Parks get crowded
And drowned in jazz festival.
Suddenly the lost one pops up
The first romantic glance
Anew kiss on friend’s cheek
The last parting in wind
The sparkles of jazz that carve the metal benches,
Pass through singing bodies.
I turn on a lighter
He lights his cigarette
The coughs and silences
The familiar floating sneezes and hiccups in the air
The beginning of awaking is always long lasting
And this fidgety sunset has stolen the light dreams
Woodpile in braziers are dancing in the distance
Some people in front of Music Camp are dancing
They are cheering up
They are whistling
And the silence chest is empty from warning
Sometimes a meteor passes my eyes
And suddenly a memory, a strange little wet tears.
No need for night,
For this hilarity we have paid a price
That has been forgotten.
Mehdi Roudsari
2012-08-06
Translated by Hanna Kasraee
تب سار 