In the City

At a distance from each other we walk in the Ordibehesht sunset, in the city street: the city in which we were condemned to not being caressed, to not being kissed, the city in which we were condemned to separation from each other, to going far... At the corner of the street a weeping willow has turned green. A wave of wind makes the weeping willow dance, comes toward us, circles around you and takes the air of your body, winds around me; passes through the collar of my black cloak, slips over my skin: and you slip over my body with your long breaths, with your air steeped in the scent of the willow leaves, with all the lights of the sun, with all your body, in truth. In the Ordibehesht sunset, in the city street, the city that wanted to condemn us to separation from each other...