frustrates, absolute powerlessness frustrates absolutely, absolute
frustration is a dangerous emotion to run a world with."
I wonder why I am so restless, why I cannot cease thinking! It seems
like the world we live in reveals incessantly, at certain moments or
circumstances, just how little we are and how vast the universe is. We
continuously learn something new about this world. This world of ours is
a very complex world. Still, what does the expression to be controlled
by the elements of the unknown signify? Asking this question should not
simply lead us into desperate reflections. The world we live in is a
world of many brutal voices. It is a world of heavy blows and delirious
trances, but it is the only world we know.
recent tragic and catastrophic event in the ancient city of Bam in Iran
has affected me tremendously. I felt a temptation to scream and run to
the end of the world and say my prayers with unusual earnestness and a
heavy heart. I felt like screaming for the overflowing flood of human
blood. I felt like screaming for the weary eyes and innocent moans of
the children of Bam. I felt apprehensive, anxious, and fearful. And now,
as I take up my pen, my hand trembles and my head swims with horror and
disbelief at the magnitude of the human devastation. Yet, the world will
go on as usual.
searching for meanings and eternal differences and the actual condition
of the universe, there is a gap that can never be filled. The
confrontation of the irrational, longing human heart and the indifferent
universe brings about the notion of the absurd world.
these shine before me,
move in front of my eyes
a strange way!
believe we all are born to do certain things in this world. I feel as
though I were born to suffer and write about it; to write about the
moans and groans of many voices, many tormented souls who are searching
for an answer. To write is to make oneself the echo of what cannot cease
you are one of those relentless souls who dares to look, who dares to
touch, who dares to write and who goes beyond the heaven and hell. I
sometimes wonder about heaven and hell! What is the meaning of life?
What is the purpose of all things, of all events? Life definitely is a
mystery. Life has many moments. Life has many faces. Life is a universal
odyssey. Life is a garden where the Cyprus trees are beginning to rustle
and where the reality is hushed. It's where you feel a cold breeze pass
through every bone in your body and you start to tremble.
this tragic episode, life reminds us all how hopeless we really are.
Even with the powers of instinct and imagination, one feels that man
does not belong solely to the tangible world. There must be a more
profound and secret reality that is the source of this phenomenon. The
world appears an obscure and dull place, filled with pockets of
disasters in which men are, easily, the victims. Then again, we have
given more room to hope and mystic influences, less to reality. The main
circle, which always dominates, must be sought in the realms beyond
thought and discursive reason. Shakespeare was not wrong in stating:
are such stuff
dreams are made on, and our little life
rounded with a sleep."
disasters occur, our minds pass through many stages of inner
development. We sometimes speak of other forces that rule the world and
apparently man wants to substitute this invisible force for a man-made
shelter, called religion. The recent earthquake in the City of Bam has
left thousands dead and thousands without shelters. A heavy blow to
humanity from the above and we start to doubt everything and struggle
for an answer.
struggle against fate,
struggle against life!
struggle itself towards,
heights of calamity,
enough to fill a man's heart,
so we return to the place from which we started, the land of dreams. In
any case, it matters little for what reason we continue to struggle so
long as we testify to man's allegiance to man and not to abstractions.
Perhaps we would not be wrong in saying that we are in the reality of
time and space, filled with a woven veil of dreams. Under this veil, is
hidden the real truth of existence, and when the veil is lifted, the
essence of things will be discovered.
you earthly angels!
a bed of white feathers!
innocent children of Bam,
wearing your white glowing robe,
have left the memories of life,
see the poor black swallows!
over the ruins of our city!
see overflowing pain,
the hearts of every Persian!
heart stops palpitating!
breath starts to dry up!
faith simply fades away,
my bed falls silent.