The wrinkles at the corner of my eyes
can tell many stories.
I am old you see, very old,
older than the faded carpet I sit on.
My eyes are deep.
They contain the secrets of alchemists
and infinite horizons of dazzling colours.
I come in peace, always in peace.
I am wrapped in the colours of the desert
and offer a cup of saffron tea
to the ones who visit me.
When it touches their lips,
it turns into wine.
I speak the universal language of the reed,
the one of a thousand smiles.
And I like to wrap each smile
very carefully in words of poetry.
I then offer them to the ones
who have embraced roses.
I know the thorns penetrated their skin,
I have my own scars.
Please accept my offering.
Music: Ney by Ostad Hassan Kasaie استاد حسن کسایی (Iran, 1928-2012).