Romantic Poems

 
Social Poem

Social Poems

 
Epic Poem

Epic Poems


 

Rain


Fall, O gentle rain,
Upon the wide, dry plains of my Shiraz

Come, O my heavy tears,
Fall, O fevered cloud,
My lips and soil lie parched without you

Fall, O golden autumn drizzle,
Upon the silent, fevered earth
From this drought and famine,
From this ruin and terror,
I am once again full of sorrow

Fall, O gentle rain,
My familiar heartache bleeds
The spring of my life, for you, is like winter
The fevered body of summer
Has dried up all RAWI’s reeds and wheat fields

Come, O autumn wind,
For the wheat fields die,
The poppies lament
Fall, O fevered cloud,
Upon the tresses of my beloveds
Fall, O hidden tear,
Empty this sky of grief
Expose the song of love with cries

Make my naked wheat fields dance in beauty
Night falls, and thirst rules
O Lord, let the gentle rain fall
Upon the wide, dry plains of my Shiraz
Cover the sky of my Iran, pure and blue

Fall, O fevered cloud,
Upon the tresses of my beloveds
Fall, O hidden tear,
Empty this sky of grief
Expose the song of love with cries
Make my naked wheat fields dance in beauty

Night falls, and thirst rules
O Lord, let the gentle rain fall
Upon the wide, dry plains of my Shiraz
Cover my Ir



 

Sick


I am sick, and no one answers my cries
I am alone, and no one is my desire

Alas, my friends, all have gone
From all that clamor, not a bell remains

O love, they have buried you in the soil
They killed, yet no one delivers justice

O friend, why did you not complain
Even in your heart, no longing remains

O beloved, come, I am dying of this pain
For no one thinks of another

From the garden of my memories
Alas, only thorns and dust remain

It seems death has taken everyone
In RAWI’s house, not a breath is left

I am sick, and no one answers my cries
I am desired, yet no one loves me



 

Dandelion


Dandelion
Bring the scent of spring
Deliver a joyful letter from a distant land

Bring the fragrance of friendship to my senses
Bring tears of joy to my eyes
Bring the wings of freedom
Bring a breath of harmony and healing

Dandelion
Bring the death of autumn
Bring the blossom of spring

And from the desert of my suffering, free me
Bring red blood to my veins
Sprinkle the fountain of truth
Bring RAWI the gift of love

Bring the eternal name of the garden
Bring the memory of friends from the taverns
Bring the scent of scattered friends
Bring the taste of the beloved’s messenger

Dandelion
Bring a sip from the cup
Bring the messenger full of wine’s delight



 

Separation


In the silence of the sunset’s faded hue
Within the cage of longing, awaiting dawn

Amid the roar of whispers, the river’s wild fear

In the assault of solitude, a vision appears,
The vision of the beloved’s return
RAWI, the wanderer, to a distant land

In the fruitful spring,
With melody and joy

The wait, the wait for a union full of song



 

Tulip of sorrow

The doors of my hope have closed  
RAWI, this beloved of the world,  is weary too

Laughter has fled from my lips  
The tulip of sorrow  has grown in my heart

Those simple nights have passed me by  
This love is dead,  the old companion in my mind

Alas,  yet my eyes are still waiting  
Like Joseph in the well, I wait still  
When will a prince come to my aid,  A minstrel with harp and cup,  And wine?



 

Falling leaves

The streets feel heavy  
My heart, restless and sorrowful  
The song of love in my city’s alleys, so unsteady

I follow this path wherever it leads  
Seeking the mournful tone of the land,  The call of the blind owl
I ask of everyone I meet,  Yet no one by the red-glory sunset streams  
No one beside the streams to share words,  No voice among the mountains I see

Honor seems faded,  Gentleness pale and faint
Honesty smells of autumn  
From the lonely Shirazi cypress,  From the trembling green of spring

What do you see? Nothing but yellow!

I pursue this path, uncelebrated  
Awake to the deadly autumnal dawns
I, the captive of burning turmoil, all leaves fallen  
Beneath the cold stones of this prison  
In my autumn season, lost and wandering  
Caught in the corner of its embrace, bewildered

My breath weighs heavy in my chest,  Wherever love exists, there RAWI stands,  With a bleeding heart



 

Madness


It is a long time,  That a fear calls to me  

It is a long time,  Madness digs into my thoughts

I, who am,  I know

I am the same,  A wanderer of your ruined alleyways

I am the same,  Lost in the streets of your nights

I am the same,  Rawi, detached and alone

It has been a long time that I,  Am lost

I am weary of myself,  Not just of myself alone  
But of all these sick and intoxicated thoughts  
From this land devoid of imagination

I am weary of myself, of everyone,  I am weary



 

Fantasy of freedom


In our vivid imagination, we had a vision  
Of a person of stature, fruitful and worthy

They said,  One day you shall be freed  
Entering the season of green serenity

What can I say,  If loyalty is this or that, O Savior  
We, the youth, O friends, when shall we be sacrificed?
Beneath their forceful words,  We shall groan and wail from evil,  Poverty, and oppression

Well, I, however, do not belong outside the gathering,  Yet  
The words of Rawi, from this sincerity,  Shall be full of spark



 

Earthly god


O God,  If for a moment I were the sole master ,  Of the world and the entire universe

So drunkenly,  I would pluck the moon from the throne  
Uproot all mountains  
Tear the earth from the heavens
I would silence all nightingales,  Make thousands mute  
Steal the sound of their voices   Take the radiance from the moonlit face
But alas, I know,  That I cannot be God

Yet O abode of truth,  If for one moment you revealed divinity in my name  
If for one moment I ruled in Your place
I would erase all seasons,  And in the name of pure lovers, recall them anew  
Instead of tulips and white jasmines on the pure autumn plains   Instead of narcissus in the drunken winter nights
Across the bosom of all your dry, lifeless plains   In the barren, nameless deserts,  I would plant love

That a moon-faced, bleeding-hearted Rawi   Would never seek again

But alas, I know,  That I cannot be God   For divinity comes from God,  And we are but du



 

Grudge


I went to be freed from the bonds of the familiar   And to part from the old twisted paths
I went so that, in my leaving,  The familiar heartache of a friend   Might be released from the relentless pain of reproach   And from the regret of staying
I went to escape the chill of blizzard moments   And the tension of relentless heat in warnings   And from the chains and ties of captive companions
I went to rise above the storm of calamity,  To set foot beyond the blue of the sea
I went to leave behind the prison of twisted desires,  The fiery gaze of eyes,   And the full sails of my former fortune
I went to free my heart from the knots of friendship,  From the fear and regret of this hope-starved plain,   From the burned f



 

Unfulfilled


One night I leapt from the solitude of the abandoned, damp house   Towards the unknown road of the graveyard of dreams
I went to ask,  Of the mournful song of a buried dead man   Who at night,  From that darkness-laden scream, emerges illusory
I saw,  a gathering of spiritual souls   I saw,  a gathering of demonic faces

I turned toward the deserted grave   But suddenly,  a hand fell heavily upon my shoulder
I saw,  a familiar and luminous face
I saw,  the visage of a ghostly singer of the alleys of the lowly world

I asked,  “Alas, wandering mourner,”
It spoke,  “I am the scandal of the graveyard   Who at night wails from the disgrace of my longing   And from the heart-wrenching chaos of one buried   The same Rawi,  the same worldly failure.”



 

Autumnal


The autumn season arrived, and the days kept passing

The shedding of the trees came, and  love withered   Our hands became wrinkled and our hearts, kept breaking   The flood of plundering slew the cupbearers, and the goblet broke from the arm   The tulips of the little birds in the meadows were washed away by water

Autumn passed, and no one watched the falling leaves   No one ever witnessed the dreamlike migration   No one believed in the sorrowful death of the swallow
Shadows grew heavy, and our hands, like a cold blizzard   Wounds became old, and our thoughts turned yellow   The season of unkindness arrived, and our lives went in vain

The life of the Rawi passed like autumn, and the houses became ruins



 

Emblem


Do not speak of longing for Mary and white jasmine   Say, of the field full of wild poppies
Do not speak of the splendor of a fleeting breath of pure freedom   Say, of the old wounds of secret plunder
Do not speak of the ideals of the bloody path of gallantry   Say, of the calloused hands of farmers with bleeding hearts
Do not speak of the celebrated migration of the flock of swallows   Say, of the hatred and resentment of a solitary prisoner
Do not speak of the green, white, and red flag of Iran, in the name of a pure Ahura homeland   Say, of the yellowed, tortured autumn, and the sorrowful, terrifying ruin

Fear, of the revenge and grudges etched upon the walls of a prison cell   The release from a phantom, diabolical night

Do not speak, from me to them, of the day I flew   Say, from me to them, of my surging wrath and fury
Speak of the boiling blood of my dry, lifeless veins   Say, from me to freedom, that the Rawi loves you



 

Spring envoy


Tears shine bright like moonlight and stars   Eyes weep through this dust of time

O Messenger,  remind me of rain and wind   The bubbling springs of stone and mountain   The blossomed buds of festival and spring   The song of freedom and the sight of the beloved   Companion to the Rawi, you are the harbinger of spring

O Messenger,  bearer of name and mark   Tell me, what news do you carry of the beloved?
O Messenger,  wanderer of the seas   Step beyond the bounds of my being



 

Dance


The Rawi plays,  On the warm three-stringed instrument    The song of the night of events

The Rawi plays,  Moments with the flute at his lips    At times hand on the harp    The long and distant story of a stormy night and war

Then staring into the night    A moth dances to the tune of the harp    At times striking with hands

A brief pause, and now he plays: 
Like a shepherd warm to the flute    Guiding all the young goats along the path

He keeps wailing,  flute to his lips   He keeps dancing,  pouring grief into the cup

Gently again to his lips,  the flute touches

The Rawi plays,  Once more the sorrowful song of the shepherd   The melody of death in winter’s time

The poet of this strange poem wails    Counting sorrows,  Melodies in the dark night   Oh the feelings in this strange place    How the boots, heavy with grief,  carry tightly on feet

He plays, crying,  Moments with the flute at his lips,  hand on the harp At times a dance,  then death



 

Remedy


I do not know,  which path to take

The bitter path of youth with the mark of a dark beast   
Or staying, which brings the Rawi nothing but disgrace

I am confused,  which path to take

The trees, as winter comes, rest quietly
Sleeping  
Like the corpses of a graveyard

Tonight I face the difficult path of separation,  with whom should I walk?

Is it the trial of staying or of pursuing the path alone  
The tear of the old willow branch along the dark, lonely road

A harsh voice sings from the homeland  

The bitter path of separation with the mark of darkness and confusion
Shows me tonight  
That the path leads to death and terror

You ask, which path
  
You show me, the bright path toward my illuminated Venus



 

The Mad Narrator


I am the most wretched person on Earth   How sad and sorrowful   Sweat of fatigue on my brow   Fear and death,  Friend and foe,  All lie in ambush

I am dazed and astonished   The Rawi and the madman

I exist yet I am drunk,  Drunk yet aware   Hidden yet exposed,  In flight and escape   My state is ruined and weak,  Seeking to uncover the secret and open a door   I roam the Earth like the air,  Like a hawk

But,  Everywhere is closed and sealed,  Everyone is tired and weary   The bird of grief, savior of tears,  Sits in my throat   The ill-omened owl, this unlucky crow,  How it laughs at our plight

It was night,  Yet night came

Everywhere without light, dark, cold,  Everything humiliated and lowly   Everyone went to sleep,  Sleep of delight,  Like the companions of the cave   As if they had slept for years,  Hands off life

Why can I not sleep,  Why can I not escape the cold of night

Why does the spark in my heart not fade,  Why am I not freed from the chill of this night

Why is everything around me a barrier
Why is my fate here unfulfilled

Why am I restless like a fish
Why is youth so distant from me

Why am I old,  My heart is old Why am I blind,  My heart is blind

O God, I have become,  Drunk and bewildered   In this endless world

O God, grant me healing,  Apply a remedy to this wounded heart   O God, how long must injustice continue   How long must this life be fickle!

O God, pull me to comfort   Destroy me and make me more ruined   For I cannot bear to see a tear,  I have no voice to speak   Everywhere, every moment, oppression flows   Everywhere, nightly theft occurs
Every person brings shame and deceit   Every path leads to pain and ruin

O God, wherever You are,  Send a call
O God, send only one,  A single voice
For love, light, and sublime joy   I ask of You,  This is my prayer

Make people stand in line like soldiers   Hold them within walls   With oppression, let there be a story of injustice   So that no one will raise their voice again

O God, this sorrowful heart of the Rawi,  Has never seen joy or delight   Has never seen these in its soul and spirit

Not only am I sad within this collective,  But the whole assembly,  Like me, is sorrowful



 

Fall


Like falling leaves
Yellow and silent,  Mourning within itself

Like the endless story of a river
Wounded and anxious  

Insignificant,  like trees carrying snow  
Together with the song of melodies

I await winter

The Rawi’s heart is broken, and his hand is cut  
From the chest of autumn’s deceit  

But with hope for spring,  smiling



 

Birth of Death


Death strikes in the waves of space,  Lightning before my eyes   And nothing I do can change it

With hell in my eyes and death in my veins  
I feel the end approaching, and fire in my mind

Life appears thus,  As each day passes  
It becomes lost inside me
Fades away,  Slowly,  Slowly

Watching the arrival of death  
I sweat,  I shiver cold
And crave the end to set me free

I scream,  No one knows, no one hears what I say

Fear is near,  Death is nearer  
The city destroyed,  Death alive  
The end of the road is near, winter ahead

Fire for beginnings,  The whip-like dance of the dead  
Our dark world colored black  
Destroyed in the blink of an eye

I see in my dreams,  My freedom from afar  
No doors closed,  No barred windows, 
My mind is so restless

What I need,  You hold  
Borderless lands,  Within every realm  
Freedom to choose, speak, and secure independence

Thirsting for independence and spreading freedom  
Yet freedom,  No longer frees us
For the wolves of power lie in wait  
Beneath their feet, coldness and burning light

Nothing exists but death in life  
And my life’s candle burns from both ends

Ah, exhausted to death  
And I hold my breath, hoping,  Holding it within my chest  
This is the end,  I can no longer bear it

Farewell to the world I live in

I bury my desires in life,  And on my tombstone inscribe  
Here lies rawi,  Yet still on the journey!



 

flame


I never wanted anything from you,  Nor have I given you anything 
Yet you gave me your emptiness  I will carry it to the grave

I wait my whole life 
I drive over earth and waves 
I search outside and inside 
To return what you left behind

I know,  I always burn in this desire 
And my tears fall without pride,  silently 
And the more I seek, the more I need

So rise, sleepy one 
Split the sky,  Give your all,  Tear the map,  Trick and dare failure 
Yet you will feel no comfort

So come, confess,  Set fire,  Remove the mask from your face 
Then drive me into your longing

Reveal your hand,  Make it visible 
Cry and tell everything

I will never surrender 
Now raise the flags
Close your small eyes,  Just listen

The dark cloud above is me 
The ivy trying to cut the tree is also me

I am that persistent boy rawi 
The one who is not well 
Cannot be free,  No one wants to see him

So I write for you 
For rawi you will not weep,  Because he must 
Touch purity with a dirty hand 
I touched purity to the point of futility 
I broke the mirror to see my own face

What I understood and felt,  Swallowed the future,  Wasted hope,  Slapped your face red 
But know, no matter how high you are,  You will fall lower

Call me what you want,  Say vagabond, wanderer,  Homeless, sky-bound, doorless 
But know the brightest flames burn fastest