Shirin Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Shirin



Shirin

How was she?
Was she fit or chubby?
Was her hair soft, fuzzy?
And her face, long or round?
How old was, older, young?

Why should I care at all?
She was his, was Farhad’s.

Farhad carved the stones
He made a masterpiece
For ages, lived, exists.
Lovers come, pass and talk
Kermanshah, of Iran…

Love for her, extreme
For other she left, him
She chose a richer man
Of Royal Family…
Named: Khosrow.

Nizami Ganjavi wrote poem
Recorded piece by piece…

Though love is dangerous
I love it, what is this?

Thursday, August 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: romantic
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