It’s raining, and the fog is so thick that you can’t see more than 10 meters ahead. Most of the poems I know are about separation; I don’t know any to soothe a beloved’s pride. I turn to Ali-Agha Vahid. Maybe he can help me. But, contrary to my expectations, what came was something that left me in silence, staring at the rain.
يانسين ديليم آغزيمدا دئسم نازيوی آز ائت
ناز ائت منه، ای سئوگيلی جانان منه ناز ائت
