Anahid Hojjati

A version a little bit different

نیمه شب بود , نخوابیدم , آشفته نشستم

دل خود را به دفترِ فکرم , سراسیمه صدا کردم

به استقبالِ روز , او را چه  بس سرزنش ها نمودم

گفتمش : دل , دوباره  , ساده , نادان بودی

 با یک  لبخند , یک نوشتهُ مجازی , خود را باختی

 دانم سالهاست از مدرسهُ عشق فارغ گشتی

پس چرا بر سرکلاسها , مستمع آزاد نشستی ؟

دگران درس خواندند , از عشق خانه ها ساختند

 خانه هم داشتی , سپس از دست دادی

به جای آن  , چه خشتی بر هم نهادی ؟

دلم نزدِ فکرم , شرمگین  و گریان شد

اول آهش , بعد از آن اشکش  ,

رنجم داد ,

 مرا گران آزرد

دل پا به پا کرد ,

 بر من نگاهی با بیگناهی افکند

 یک باره به من گفت :

ندانستم لبخند و  نوشته شاید بی معنا بود

 چه لبخندی بود , نوشته هم ظریف و زیبا بو د

 عصبانی گشتم ,

 با خشم به دل گفتم :

برگرد به کلاست ,

نیاز داری هنوز درسی

بشنو از حافظ , خیام , از رومی

از فروغ  , حمیدمصدق ,

سلطان پور , مشیری

بلکه  چشمانت بازگردند ,

 بعدِ سالی , دانا گردی

 مکثی کرد و دل داد جوابم:

ببخشید بسیار خانم ناظم ,

من امشب شک دارم .

Dear masoudA, I agree with you about moments gained.

What a nice comment, masoud. Thanks for reading my poem and writing your comment. I have to say that one nice thing about Iranian.com is making these online friends and I have even met several of my IC friends in real life too, which has been a great pleasure.

FAN TAS TIC

Speaks of Hope and the highly unexplainable game of Love.

Dear Anahid - it is a pleasure to have you as a cyber associate.  All I can say is that the moment you spend in love of anyone or anything is a moment gained - it is forever - it is another layer in the foundation of you as a human.

Dear MM, Ebi jan, and Darius aziz, thanks for your comments.

MM jan, estekhareh, now that is an idea. Let me think about it :).

Darius jan, your blogs about filmmaking and many of your other blogs are my favorites so I have something to envy you too. And Ebi jan, thanks for your words of encouragement, Ostaad. 

Anahid Jaan...

 تو که دانم سالهاست از مدرسهُ عشق فارغ گشتی

چرا بر سر این کلاس  آن کلاس , مستمع آزاد نشستی ؟

دگران درس خواندند , رفتند , از عشق خانه ها ساختند

PRICELESS!!!!

Sepaas 

Ebi aka Haaji

Beautiful Anahid Jaan

Now that's a Talent I envy ... ;0)

I have absolutely no talent for writing poems. 

My Hats Off to your Talent Anahid Jaan !

Luv,

D 

Very nice Anahid

دفعه دیگه که شک داشتی، استخاره یادت نره!

Dear Mehrban, you are welcome and thanks for understanding.

Mehrban jan, Thanks for understanding that although these poems relate to my life but as you wrote, it is not a direct reflection of it.

Thanks for the explanation

Anahid jaan, don't worry I do not think that your poems are direct reflections of your life.  All the best.

Mehrban jan, it is "shak" not "ashk"

In the title and at the end, it is "shak" not "ashk". Fekr or nazem is telling heart that she needs more classes to wise up and her answer is that she (heart) emshab seriously doubts that wising up as result of more studying will happen. Please realize that this is a poem and reality may be different than this poem. I am always concerned that readers take my poems to mean my life is 100% like the poem so many times I want to include a disclaimer!

Anahid jaan

Did I read it wrong? I thought the word in the title was "Ashk" and not "shak".   Also at the end, the heart could not contain its tears anymore (like a child). 

Dear Mehrban and Esfand jan, thanks for your comments

Dear Mehrban, what a great sentence you wrote and probably true :) where you noted in your comment:" The heart seen as a child in the face of the tyrannical (?) intellect." Thanks for your comment.

Esfand jan, I wish I remembered more about what they taught me in school in "adabiat" class, but I guess I do remember some. Thanks for reading my poem and also for commenting.

Thanks Jahanshah, I am glad you liked it

Dear Jahanshah, sometimes, my poems come easily to me and with no or little rewrite. This one took longer than usual and required much rewrite so I am glad it turned out OK.

Very nice! heart felt like they teach in schools!

Everything is sacred

I like this one too

 The heart seen as a child in the face of the tyrannical (?) intellect.  It is particularly lovely at the end.  

Exceptional

Very beautiful.