Night of Pleasant Loneliness

  Listen, the world's farthest bird is singing.
  The Night is fluid, whole, and open.

  Geraniums
  And the loudest branch of the season, hear the moon.

  Stairs in front of the building,
  Door with lantern in hand,
  And the lavish breeze,

  Listen, the road is calling your steps from afar.
  Your eye is not the darkness's ornament.
  Shake your eyelids, put on your shoes and come.
  Come until the moon's feather alerts you
  And Time sits with you on a lump of earth
  And the psalms of night, absorbs your body
  Like a piece of music.

  There is a pious man there who will tell you:
  The best thing is to come upon a look that is still moist with love's advent.

Translated by Mahvash Shahegh