"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Sunday, October 20, 2013

CASPIAN DESCENT

The Alborz mountains steadily ebb.
Beneath them lies the leafy plain,
Quilted with collaged farms,
And hamlets cleaving to cliffs.

From the peaks a winding road
Edges down through deftly cut clefts -
Incisions of men and mechanics
Skirting the scree of nature’s rifts.

Then the descent offers
Carnivals of assorted sceneries.
Grey gravel gives way to mossy moors.
Soon conifers conquer with emerald needles.

Beyond the pines all is jumbled –
Deciduous mantles of scarlet and yellow
Arranged by chance in patterns -
Erratic but explicit in grandeur.

As the land levels out on to the plain,
Green and gold meadows nestle
Beside quaint homes and waving palms.
Then the land kisses the water.

The glittering blue-grey sea
Caresses its slim sandy strand.
High-rise lodgings jostle for prestige,
Just as it was in the time of the king.


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