Wild Blue Eyes
Not a day goes by
When I don’t recollect
Those Wild Blue Eyes:
Blue but cloudless;
Tranquil but bright with rich radiance.
This mere but blissful recollection
Can be the most festive restoration
Of my withered and wrinkled soul;
It brings me back on my feet,
And it raises me to pull aside my blue bedsheet.
Those eyes, I’ve kept to myself so far,
Even more than the daily gruesome revelation,
Incite me to begin a fiery revolution;
To express my lofty wild thoughts;
And to cry out my reserved agony like explosive gunshots.
But alas and alack!
Every day that goes by,
I have less and less remained
Of what refines my respiration and my mind;
And of what I called those Wild Blue Eyes!
My spirit slowly runs towards its irrevocable cessation,
My frame of body barely makes any fine motion,
And my mind no longer does a proper function.
And yet, I’d rather crawl to my nigh end
Than not recall for one last time
One single sight of those Wild, Wild Blue Eyes.
About the Author:
Nadia Ziarati is an English language and literature graduate from Shahid Beheshti University of Tehran. She has completed her BA course and is now working as an English language instructor, willing to continue her studies in a literature-related major for an MA program abroad. Since the beginning of the four rich years of the bachelor’s program, she’s written a few pieces of creative literature.
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