Sohrab Sepehri (1928-1980):
A Fine Lonely Night
The furthermost bird of this world sings.
The night is neat, complete and wide.
And the moon whispers,
to the ears of the flowers,
to the ears of the twigs.

In front of the stairs,
amidst the profusion of the nightly breeze,
a torch in my hand,
I stand.

The lanes are calling your steps,
And your eyes are not to be the ornament of darkness!
Wash your eyes,
Wear your shoes-
and come!

Come with me!

Come until the moon’s hidden fingers warns!
Come until Time sits by your side!
Come until the night’s fragrance absorbs-
the entire weight of your limbs!

And then,
listen, listen again!

I know,
if you come this way,
there will be a wise, not far away,
who will tell you then:
“The best instant in life-
 is the night  you look into your eyes-
and  they are wet, they are wet from-
the Incidence of Love.”
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani.
Sohrab Sepehri (1928-1980): The Address
At the first light of the dawn
the loner knight asked:
"Do you happen to know-
the abode of The Beloved?"

The skies went silent,
save their mournful clouds, 
save their falling stars.

The pilgrim gave up his glowing twig-
to the gloom of the sands-
and replied:

“Don’t you see that poplar tree?
Well, right before the tree,
There is a  lane that you’ll reckon, I deem.
For it is greener than a heavenly dream,
For it is generously shaded-
with the deep blues of love.

Well, if you See!

So walk down that lane,
You’ll arrive to the garden of sense;
Turn to the direction of the loner lake;
Listen to the genial hymn of leaves;
Watch the eternal fountain- 
that flows from the spring of ancient myths-
till you fade away-
in a plain fear.

When a rigid noise-
clatters into  the fluid intimacy of the space,
you'll find a child-
on the top of a tree- 
next to the nest of owls-
in hope of a golden egg.

Well, if you See.

You may be sure: The Child will show you the way.

If you just ask about- 
The Abode of The Beloved.”
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani.