My Distant Friend

To which lonesome abode do you beckon me plaintively again and again, my friend! My roadside home, full of sorrows, is blown up by the storm every now and then and so, made homeless, I roam around. The haunting tune of your flute loosens all ties. That's how I am a wayfarer searching round and round farther and farther afield for the roadside bride. Beloved mine, you get jealous for the slightest cause, that's why you never stop by the wayside. your pains wring my heart. To make a home by the wayside your eyes become tearful. The scarf sweeps the wet grass. Your doleful tune, friend, draws up sighs and moistens the eyes. [Translation: Zakeria Shirazi]