Written by: Moushegh Ishkhan
Translated by:Varak Babian
Two trees, two youthful firs,
As if snow capped phantoms
Amidst winter’s harsh breath…
They tremble and howl; lamenting borrowed time
Another tree, belonging to Christmas- grand and regal…
Glimmers within lights,
And with smiles of the stars
There, alone echoing a bride’s disposition
Two trees, two frozen firs
Within view of the luminous window,
They cast ceaseless looks inside…
With an admiration they yearn, a thousand times over.
Yet that magnificent tree, a living tragedy
With hatcheted roots,
Though enchanted with lights,
There with each passing hour; drained of breath, it fades…
*Translated from the original, Moushegh Ishkhan’s ºñÏáõ ̳é»ñ