آفتاب است و، بیابان چه فراخ

نیست در آن نه گیاه و نه درخت

غیر آوای غرابان، دیگر

بسته هر بانگی از این وادی رخت.

در پس پرده‌یی از گرد و غبار

نقطه‌یی لرزد از دور سیاه

چشم اگر پیش رود، می‌بیند

آدمی هست که می‌پوید راه.

تنش از خستگی افتاده ز کار

بر سر و رویش بنشسته غبار

شده از تشنگی‌اش خشک گلو

پای عریانش مجروح ز خار.

هر قدم پیش رود، پای افق

چشم او بیند دریایی آب

اندکی راه چو می‌پیماید

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.