Headed west
Headed west, once again
And observed same old games
Played on dark stage…
Expose was romantic-childish
Attractive was the scene.
There I saw virgin Moon
Round, plain her surface.
And sky was ladder or easel
For the Moon, white canvas.
Clouds' hands were brush
Of the witch on stick
With broom's many teeth.
Though rarely, there were times
That the eyes saw the light
In amber or golden…
What a scene
Childish and
Romantic;
Excellent
Eye-catching.
Felt as if was young and
In mountains under vine
Where, as child I slept…
Held a vase of Khayyam
Full of wine from vine
And drunk of divine…
Please, you, scientists, factories
Leave nature for artists
You rape and make bastards
We love her like angel
Cupping hand admire and praise
The nature as goddess; the virgin…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Please, you, scientists, factories Leave nature for artists You rape and make bastards We love her like angel// wow what a great expression this is; love it