When  you  go  down  there.
The  settings  so  grand.
And  you  might  see  my  friend  there.
Playing  in  his  band.

The  sun  minting  coins
on  the  surface  is  grand.
Casting  shadows
across  on  the  land.

The  setting  so  grand  there.
And  fills  you  with  hope.
In  this  mad  world.
It  helps  you  to  cope.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2017.

Abadan was small those days
Maybe my mother doesn't remember
Dolls dream too
In her flower designed skirt
She doesn't like the war
The sky of Isfahan is not blue
Doesn't know any dolls with
blossomed eyes
I wanted my red shoes
Mom
You take the weapon this time
Since it's not the war of Jasmine's eyes
It doesn't smell as Eglantines do
Demanding heads
A shining star in his open eyes
The sky of Isfahan is not blue
The city of turquoise domes
and livid mosques
The resonance of the song of
Azan at noon through those high skies
That doesn't know my mother
You just saw them as stars
Their skies are so high for wishes to reach
The city of the livid dames is said to be beautiful...
Your laughs were beautiful those days
This city
Doesn't know my mother
Her Abadan was so small


آبادان آن موقع کوچک بود
شاید مادرم یادش نمی آمد
عروسک ها هم خواب می بینند
دامنش طرحی گل دار را دارد
جنگ را دوست ندارد
اصفهان آسمانش آبی نیست
عروسکی نمی شناسد
... که چشمانش تازه شکوفه کرده
من کفش های قرمزام را می خواستم
مامان
این بار تو سلاح دستت بگیر
که جنگ
چشمان یاسمن نیست
بوی نسترن ها را نمی دهد
باز
سر می خواهند
چشم هایش باز
ستاره ای در گوشه ی چشمش بدرخشد
اصفهان آسمانش آبی نیست
شهر گنبدهای فیروزه ای
مسجدهای کبود
پیچش اذان های ظهر در آن آسمان های بلند
مادرم را نمی شناسد
که تو آن ها را ستاره می دیدی
آسمان هاشان بلند اند
آرزوها نمی رسند
شهر گنبدهای فیروزه ای
...که می گویند زیباست
خنده های تو در آن موقع زیبا بود
این شهر
مادرم را نمی شناسد
آبادانش
خیلی کوچک بود

I was passing through my childhood
on a bike
to the delight of flying with the balloons

من از کودکی هایم می گذشتم
بر چرخی که می راندم
...تا شوق به پرواز درآمدن با بادبادک ها

Looking for my train
In my lost clothes
And I having no story anymore

در لباس های گم شده ام
دنبال قطارهایم می گردم
و من دیگر قصه ای ندارم

Once
there was a sea
And a sun set
But
we forgot to count
the waves.
Now,
The sea has grabbed
Everything away

Our parents will become orphans one day -
this is not something you normally choose.

In that moment,
some of them will suddenly find
their inner child,
hopelessly
wondering around life;
others
will permanently lose it
and bury it
alongside their parents.

All of these grown-up children
are wishing more and more,
with every day that passes,
to become grandparents
for OUR unborn children.

We will become orphans one day -
that's something you don't normally choose.

In that moment,
we'll become the first generation
of children that
don't have a past,
nor a future -
we will only live our present,
till the day we die..

Or, at least, that's what our mothers and fathers believe at this point about us.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWFeUNyfpmM]