Inuit orphans
Neither a Ganges' yogi
Nor a deer of the plateau's braid
Nor her ankle-ring
And nothing more
Only you are sitting
And wearing saffron-colored curtains of heaven
For carrier pigeons
And now,
Neither saint Mary's trousseau
Nor buds within the helmets of gladiators in blood
And nothing more
You are only giving out offering sweet meat,
Within dreams of aid's daughters
My life's been as hot as burning charcoal,
Yet I am living with polar bears,
Those who are making fur coat, made up of their fur, for Inuit orphans
Seyed mohammad momeni(m.messiah)
Bright Night (1)
Now I am left behind,
And some lines of loneliness are lingered in one's memory.
Of her hairs, a single strand of hair is left behind
Of her lips, a salt marsh has settled in the eyes.
Tonight, sky is full of lost stars
Only the lonely moon is wandering in leopard's eyes.
Bright Days (2)
It is cold, and citron is at the end of my dream
Time came for birds of autumn to migrate
And I am a poet who is left alone …
And slowly going down a river in pine tree's eyes,
I am going far….
The solitude theory
Now, after bright nights,
Next to down, I have a smell like purple color of the sun.
No country lane will be died by the hand of one star, any more
Or a bullet may not be died in my body,
Here is the end of the solitude theory
I could not believe that the ladybirds and the birds still smell of love.
Like bullet, alone in the wind;
I have been departed for the air without any lanes
Here is the end of the solitude.
seyed mohammad momeni(M.Messiah) iran
CONTACT THE AUTHOR: tefl.momeni@gmail.com