To the Companion’s Orchard

orchard

By Sohrab sepehri

 

Call me

Call me

Sweet is your voice

Sweet is the foliage of the strange plant

Grown in the farthest edge of sorrow

Within the space of this silent age

Lonelier am I than the test of a song

Within the scope of the alley’s conception

Come, let me tell you how vast is my loneliness?

My loneliness didn’t predict this ambush of your stature

And this is the characteristic of love

Nobody is here

Come, let us steal life and then

Divide it between two meetings

Together let us pore

The morning of the state of a pebble

Quick, let us see things

The dials of a the fountain clock turns time into dust

Come, melt lake a word in a line of my silence

Come, melt the bright weight of love in my palms

Make me warm

(And once upon Kashan’s plain the sky grow clouded

And a shower fell

And chilled men, then behind a rock

The hearth of anemone warmed me)

In the these dark lanes

I fear the company of doubt and match

I fear this concrete-like century

Come, let us not fear towns whose dark soil

Is pasture to bulldozers?

Open me like a door to the falloff a simple pear in this age of steel’s birth

Lay me seep under a branch away this metal clattering night

When the miner of the dawn arrives

Call me and I will awake,

At the blossoming of the jasmine

From behind your fingers

And then

Tell me of bombs that fell while I slept

And cheeks that grow wet with tears

Of the many ducks that flow over the sea

The fatal moment when armored cars

Rolled over childhood dreams

To what sense of comfort do you tie the yellow string of canary?

Of the innocent cargoes imported from distance into ports

What science discovered the positive music powder’s smell?

And the perception that oozed out of an unknown taste of bread

In the mouth of prophecy

Then I

Like a faith warmed by the tropic sun

Will lay you on the threshold of an orchard

  Will lay you on the threshold of an orchard