Poem of the day:

JAHROM OLD CITY

The first time I went to my father’s old city
Overwhelmed with excitement and curiosity

It was spring, Norooz, Persian new year,
Scent of orange blossoms in the air

I had never seen father’s old country,
A date palm, an orange or a lemon tree.

I went to places, I had never been
I met relatives I had never seen,

I enjoyed the warmth
I had never felt

Days sped by too fast
Time to bid good bye at last

Head full of sorrow sadness and pity
I left my heart in Jahrom old city

Farzad Vahid