Majid Naficy

My beloved Has a Narcissus flower in mouth,
Her souvenir From the prisons of Iran.

I know that nightly
From behind bars
One can see the trace of flowers
On the face of the moon

And mornings
Hear the flapping wings
Of migrating cranes In the blue sky.

I know that beneath eyelids
And clenched fists
And the gunless silence
Between two executions
And the stark white of final letters
And the meaning of single taps on walls
And the dewy folds of sorrow
And the stripped down glimpses of bliss
And the hollow sockets of pain
And the dimbrightness of hope
And the cloud-clad pinnacles of pride,
One can,
Yes, one can
Hide away spring.

And yet, I am awed
At how in dark captivity
One can raise
A Narcissus flower
Whose purity
Has not been stained
By blood.

Read the original Persian poem here.