On Showing Her My Hometown

See there, the flowering fields, To the afar—with flies the mustards dance Under the sunny spring’s sweet sky. See there the snowy crags and gorge, There the foresty slopes; There the stony mount’s half-lit and half-hid in clouds’ shade. See there to the cloudy high-horizons Deep vales occur after wild woods Where nomads have their summer-huts. See there how the almond gardens hang Flowering along the foot-hill. See there in the country lived the sofi poet Who loved women and children And urged all to love; Whose is the famous song “Afsoos dunya……..” There‘s held in his honor, a day, every spring, Valley’s famous singers sing his songs And dance on stage. And the audience served bread and tea. See there in the old town He had an academy, our national poet’s teacher: A Poet, Persian scholar of his time; No matter now’s only known to few. See there in the highs, rush the snowy rills, The rocky creeks hurry and growl, There, and there, beneath the willows’ clumps— Wild sparrows hop on the tender twigs, Kiss and dance and sing. See, there is the Persian saint’s shrine Who would step on a stone And make a mark. So say o sweetie say! Shouldn’t I be as humble—as I am.