امید

Hope

by Majid Naficy



Emily Dickinson calls “hope” a bird

Who has perched in her soul

And without asking for seeds

Sings incessantly.



I saw it as a cricket

Who appeared in my childhood dreams,

Grew in my adolescent poems

And disappeared in the hubbub of a revolution.



Today I am left alone in exile

And yet, when I go to the balcony

To water the only flower in my house,

I hear the sound of a cricket

Who is calling me

From behind my neighbor’s bamboos.


November 3, 2012

http://www.iranian.com/main/2012/nov/hope