zendegi-e-khaabhaa (the life of dreams)

The swamp of my room was murky
And I could hear the murmur of my blood in my veins,
My life was passing in a deep limbo,
This darkness lighted the sketch of my existence.

The door opened
And she blew into the room with her lantern,
She was an abandoned beauty
And I was expecting her arrival.
She was the formless dream of my life,

A perfume in my eye murmured,
And my veins stopped throbbing.
Every string that pointed at me
Burnt in the lantern’s flame:
Time was not passing in me,
I was naked and briny.

She hung lantern in the air,
She was seeking me in the light,
She crossed every spot in my room
But she couldn’t find me,
A breeze drank the flame of the lantern.

A wind was blowing
And I was placed in a sketch
And I appeared in the pitch darkness of my room.
For whom was I appearing?
She was no more there.
Did she mix with the dark spirit of the room?
I felt a warm perfume moving in my veins.
I felt she was watching me with her lost existence,
And how vainly I was searching the place?
She had been lost in an instant.