Majid Naficy: Stroke
It was last week
Tuesday morning at seven
When in the shower
Your right arm became numb
Majid Naficy: On the Booksellers’ Street of Baghdad￼
I saw Mutanabbi returning from Persia.
He had heard the sound of Tigris, by the Kor River
Calling him back to Baghdad.
Majid Naficy: The Cypress of Abarkuh
Once with my father
I sat in its shade.
We were coming from Isfahan
And wanted to go to Ferdows
From the desert.
Majid Naficy: Kabul
But larks have not forgotten to fly
And grass still sprouts from the earth of Kabul
And rivers are replenished by the snows of Pamirs
And the groves of Samangan are filled with sounds of birds.
Majid Naficy: Billie Holiday
I walk gently on the skin of the sea.
A wandering wind wraps around our bodies
And an albatross opens its wings on our shoulders.
Majid Naficy: Seven Sacred Songs
There is a footstep
And the light of a lantern.
I hide myself beneath an old blanket
And become filled with the aroma of wheat.