For Ali O Esfahani
Thy words are not silent signs
Caged in the pages of the sacred books;
Nor are they voiced,
here and there,
By the lost saviours.
Thou speakest by light and colours,
And darkness is Thy silence.
Sometimes Thou murmurest
When I am sitting by a stream,
My bare feet drinking
The cool kisses of water.
And sometimes Thou singest
With thousands of melodies,
All blissful messages
Of a paradise never lost,
When I am walking alone
Through a forest,
Breathing the scents of eternity.
Only when I think and talk
Thy whole universe
Falls into confusion
And I hear Thee no more.
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