Seeds of the dates
Once again I am child
In bath-tub of old days, Khazineh
Soak me wet to use soap, scratch remove Shookh;
‘Dirt, dead cells'
But skin will remain till my death
And the thoughts, and concern, what a pain…
This time seeds of the dates
When eaten seeds remained.
Natural dates, soft, sweet and rich of vitamins
Nutritious; gave me joy and much more.
I think, think of the seeds.
If remained in own land would become the trees
Green palms with their hands and cute prospects…
Not here in marshlands of our towns and cities
I keep them in my mouth, suck on them for too long
I feel child with breast for its calm and the milk.
But how long?
Take them out,
Wrap them in a tissue
I recall grandma and her jewels.
But again for how long?
Want me back with the Nakhl
Want me back around Bam
There the dates came from.
Feel ashamed…
Threw them in trash.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem