A Girl Who Did Not Pose For Me Poem by Farnood Jahangiri

My pages pale as death;
My pen babbles in vain;
I tore down my whole journal
On which my tears remain.

O pages of Art forgive her condemn:
Her betrayal to your loving hugs.
Regard her now as a burned spot
On rose blossoms of your superb rugs!

My hands have silenced;
My brain is crying;
I commanded my mouth to retort nothing,
But my ears are firmly sighing.

Perhaps she didn’t find any ascending trip
On Apollo’s lyre. And in contrast
Chose descendance in the nature’s Hades
And served bread and wine at last.