من آن گل سرخم
بلی آن گل لاله
رویم به در و دشت
چشمم چو پیاله
اندر دلم داغیست
از هجر غم یاری
آنکه گذاشت من را
با اشک و غم و ناله
برگ برگم پریشانند
چون چهره ای حیرانم
...
A virtual route of creative and cultural exchange
Places
Kabul, Afghanistan
« I have come again and am shining like gold on the dusty road after years it is not the smell of soil it is the smell of my birthplace. » —Mujib Mehrdad, The specks of birthplace
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Writing in eternal battlefields Afghanistan is country of wars. It has been the center of great empires under the Kushans, Ghaznavids, Ghorids, Timurids, Durrani dynasties and so on… in fact, the Silk Road... media_text
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Afghanistan is a place on mars To Malala media_text
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The spider‘s web was spreading all over the room. The old woman was trying to string a needle with her skinny bone hands, but her hands were shaking and her eyes could not see the needle, so she left the old carpet... media_text
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If a river became road, media_text
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She always wished media_text
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I have decided you can go media_text
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For Khorshid, whose name means Sun It’s always the sandals that are left on the scene, media_text
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You are the one who can’t be described Neither forgotten, nor left a side You are endless as blue sky… Or the secret of autumn seaside... media_text
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Love is all, love is flower media_text
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[Translated by Hilal Nazki and Mujib Mehrdad] The blood in my stomach Inconspicuous pains shimmering from a distance media_text
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ای آشنای دیروز media_text
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