By Najeeb Barwar
Translated by Asadullah Jafari “Pezhman”
Wherever they cross the border, you make the bridge
Talk about Tehran, Samarqand and Sar-e pol
Laugh at anyone who talks about war
Speak toward them from the tolerance window
Say no to political idols. No! No!
Bloom on the grave of divisions.
A handful of Bukhara soil and mud from Neishabour
Bring together the ruins of Kabul
Dear Pamir caged girls
flower of Khorasan’s garden, curl on the crests
Bring a goblet from Balkh and wine from Shiraz
Lyricism is the drunkenness of both worlds
Wherever they cross the border
You make two bridges