And this is the friendship of centuries and centuries of death. We saw the fare welling hands, They were sickly. It was the hand of age, it was the h… - Farrokh Tamimi

Stranger to love and the benevolent
hand of age......
History has recorded on our papery hearts
By the reed
And each partition of the reed
Complains of the Masnavi of our groans: ...........??
The lines in your hands
(these winding roads)
Is familiar to my eye.
Believe me
The lines in your hand
Are more familiar to me than my own lines...
Ah O friend...
They buried us together in the grave
A thousand years ago,

I saw the fare welling hands,
They were sickly,
When my hand
Touched her cold and long fingers
Which was from the family of the wailing reed
It gripped an eternal grief in its fist
The pen broke
And pain
Like black drops of ink
dropped on our papery hearts.
I saw the fare welling hands,
They were sickly;

In a knapsack of bitter life