There was silence and wine and rose water and dust The sound of the Messiah's trumpet and kisses and visits Your eyes are always filled with tears and your longing is faith Why is there no sorrow until you are my sorrowful one What should I tell you that the feast will soon end What should I call you that after the night the world will wake up It is not your sin, because you are still unaware What is right for me to make you awake Scented bullets are still raining down Consciousness smoothes out whatever oppression leads Again the silent sorrows and pains of the city Broken backs of the oppressor, beaten together this time You are a warrior with a sinful gaze Didn't you see what the father set on fire? In my night sky, even the stars danced A shower settled on the soul of your gaze Forgive me, dust, bullets, and aspen In this land, I cried out for forgiveness A night full of sorrow, moaning, and deceit Then the breaking of an eye, full of battle A troubled Vahid and the complaints of a city child The silence of a war whistle from a sick memory From the explosion and the night, and this is no news It was Vahid who was no longer there and made a confession A collection of poems by Sasan Khaksar, pen name Vahid Tavi Sarkani HTTPS://PIN.IT/6KSKQEBHTTPS://PIN.IT/1YDVIDMHHTTPS://PIN.IT/1YDVIDM