Who knows that what is sad?
What is doleful and so flat?
Each one seen it, each heart suffered
Even flowers of desert, became hopeless of that.
Fighting, Fighting! You are for what?
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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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دلم را با نگاهی تو ربودی media_text
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Still you can see the blue under the nose media_text
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بیا یک بار دیگر بیگانه شویم هر دو در قصه عشق خود افسانه شویم هر دو media_text
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تمام شعر من موج نگاهت media_text
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[Translated by Hilal Nazki and Mujib Mehrdad] I have come again and am shining like gold 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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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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این منم آری منم اسیر زلف و روی تو هر جا روم من در بدر هستم به جستجوی تو media_text
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