How wast the fields,
How tall the mountains,
What a scent of grass in the field,
What was I looking for here?
Insomnia, maybe?
A beam of light? A grain of sand? A smile?

Behind the bushes,
Was a pure silence, calling for me,
I stayed near the pond, breeze was in the air, I listened:
Who was talking to me?
A lizard stumbled,
I walked away,
Passing through the rye fields,
Then through the cucumber fields, and bright flower bushes,
And through the forgiveness of the soil.

Next to a stream,
I let go of the sandals, and sat, feet in the water:

"How alive I am today,
And how awake my body feels,
Lest a piece of sadness shows up from behind the hills,
Who's behind the trees?
Nothing, a cow is all.
A summer noon,
The shadows know what a summer it is,
Sharp shadows,
Here's a corner of shining purity,
Oh children of feelings, here's your playground;

Life is not empty,
Kindness is here, apple is here, faith is here,
Yes,
While daffodil lives, life shall be lived..
There's something in my heart, like a field of light, like the extra sleep in the early morning,
And I'm so restless, that I want,
To run to the end of the field, to climb to the top of the mountain.
Far far away is a voice, beaconing for me...

--Sohraab Sepehri, A modern Iranian poet.