Celebrating Norooz/Tribute to spring/by Mahnaz Badihian/نوروز

 

 

Tribute to spring

 

I feel so ripe

As if, I was just born

From a tall tree in the garden.

Fresh leaf, spurting all over my skin.

I cannot stop growing

 Every second under

The clear whistle of sunshine

 in this Sunday, before spring.

 

I feel so ripe

As if coming out of

 Winter ground

Carrying with me a taste

 Of many springs.

Is it me, or the aroma of

 Coming spring or the

Recycling of love in my heart

Which helps me to recycle

So beautifully today

 ………………………………………….

Celebrating Norouz

 

We had to soak a bowl of wheat

And swaddle them in a

 Wet cloth for a week

Then spread those sprouted grains

In a Beautifully shaped dish

And let them grow to a weed.

Then we would make colored

 Figurines to represent us

So they could sit atop wheat.

Then mother will go

To “Charbagh” bazaar and buy

Beautiful little red fish

As a symbol of life.

On the table we had hyacinth

 To freshen the room

Then came time to color eggs

In those little pots.

My mother never forgot to put

Open-paged Hafiz on her chosen ghazal

While  reciting the lines.

 

She told us never sleep with old clothes

The night of Norooz

From day one to, day 12th

We would visit every family,

Every friend within next twelve days

 

At the 13th day of Norooz

We had to throw those planted grains 

In any river we could see,

 To have those old, sad roots

 Taken away from us

….