منتشرشده: دسامبر 24, 2012 در Uncategorized


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


 Translated by Hanna Kasraee





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