صدای پای انتظار
آفتاب است و، بیابان چه فراخ بسته هر بانگی از این وادی رخت. در پس پردهیی از گرد و غبار نقطهیی لرزد از دور سیاه آدمی هست که میپوید راه. تنش از خستگی افتاده ز کار هر قدم پیش رود، پای افق چشم او بیند دریایی آب میکند فکر که میبیند خواب. MIRAGE The sun is shining, the plain how wide! But void of herbs and trees, it is barren, Except crows crowing at every side Every sound has departed from this plain. A dark spot trembles from afar, a blot, Behind a thick veil of dust, But when you advance and gaze at the spot You see a man marching in the dust. Tired from labor his body is in stress, Besides, his body by dust is surrounded, From thirst his throat is dry. In that place His bare feet by thorns are wounded. As he advances in the waste on and on He can see a sea of water in the rim, But when eyeing father in the horizon It occurs to him that it is a dream.
نیست در آن نه گیاه و نه درخت
غیر آوای غرابان، دیگر
چشم اگر پیش رود، میبیند
بر سر و رویش بنشسته غبار
شده از تشنگیاش خشک گلو
پای عریانش مجروح ز خار.
اندکی راه چو میپیماید
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