در پیش کومه ام

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Before My Cabin

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Before my cabin,

in the raspberry landscape,

the unfresh moonlight

has nested — inane.

A gull fallen in love with the sea

has ruined, like its dreams,

the silence of my place

with its marine songs — inane.

Inanely this has rushed

and inanely that has twisted —

prickly vine round the fallow,

and the wind across the road —

to find out why the lamp

keeps burning until dawn.

Jasmine, then why

won’t you turn up — inane —

in my ruined home?