In this
no-man’s land
No one is knocking
at the door
In the
vale of our tedium no bird takes flight
No one
seeks light from denizens of the night
In the
night’s narrow passage
No one
breathes the dawn
I lie in
wait for this rider-less gloom to pass
Regretting
that from such a night
No light
will issue forth at last
It is a
passage full with misery
No passerby
hears a friendly call
My messed
up heart can get no worse than this
And your
sorrow’s dagger can cut no deeper still
What eye
can peer through your boarded openings?
Be gone,
no call can ever reach a deaf ear
I have neither shadow nor substance
Cutting me
down is just recompense
For
no one takes an ax to a wet tree
© 2014 Translated by Kourosh Bahar
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