Me and a night,
Night of darkness and obscurity
No light to give a hope..
No moon to make an exception..
And I am there,
In the hope of someday the full moon,
Unveiled, untouched, untold..
So are My footprints,
Printed on the loneliness of a pure desert,
A desert which making love with my soul
A soul which shaking my heart
A heart which beating to engage my spirit
A spirit which escaping from my body..
A body which is pure, fresh, virgin,
As always with a fragrance of the Narcissus..
In the hope of the fragrance,
I am living in Elsewhere
That I’ve never traveled to..
In the hope of someday the Full Moon,
I am living there far from Him
who is the Full Moon for Me, My forever Home..
I wish I could know
To where the fragrance inspires me with hopes,
When He takes Me away from where I am,
an indubitable Exile,
among some strange people,
in a Homeland that is not familiar anymore..
P.S: An answer to Irving’s poem, The Moon is Always Full . The poem is by me. It was originally in persian. I translated to english..