Nazanin, Little Nazanin

Nazanin, little Nazanin,

Innocence of the seashore of winged worlds,

Little flower, through you life honors itself with a touch of tenderness,

Little butterfly, what misery shall not drop into the dust before the sun of your sweetness?

Little rivulet, life's wine and secrets follow you wherever you go like eternally paired lovers.


At dawn, you are your mother and father's first song offering,

In the morning light, you give us angels' wings and glimpses of the roaming clouds,

At noon, you are every child's garland and pebble, his hidden treasure,

At noontide, in the twilight of ascending dreams and homesick lovers, withered leaves are again hued with the bliss of endless life,

At night, hidden in the heart of things, love, like the white morning, is restful in your possession.


Days and nights are your flute players,

The seasons melt upon your laughter,

The rain descends with your transparent sorrow,

The sky, like a golden canopy, is your witness,

The earth is your mother, sister, and bridegroom,

The winds are your whisperers,

Oh everyone's delight.


The sun and moon rise and set for the unknown in you, sweet light of our eye,

The sky wouldn't be so curved in its expanse if it weren't because of you, sweetness,

In the solitude of night, distant stars beg for your light,

For in your eye is the light of our endless youth,

And in your smile is the brink of eternity, Beloved.


Nazanin, little Nazanin,

Which garden is not yours?

And which gardener is not your lover?

Where lies the the barrier of moments,

Where does the passing breeze that swells in autumnal melodies have to go,

What of life and hope shall vanish into the night, like the last glimmer of sunset,

When one as beautiful as you is simply unsurpassable?


Ishq,

Dani

*Dedicated with love and yearning to Nazanin Zahra, Beloved of Allaah.