a smile hides behind everything

i came across the work of iranian poet sohrab sepehri recently. he paints with words.

in assembling the painting from the many facetted perspectives he provides, i find myself compelled to reflect on the whole of the "painting." then, there are the truths.

there is no cloud,
there is no wind,
i sit beside the pond,
the swimming fishes, light, i, flower, water,
the pureness of the cluster of life;
my mother reaps the sweet basil,
bread, sweet basil, cheese, a cloudless sky, wet garden petunia,
salvation is at hand: within the garden flowers.

over the foot-bath in a copper bowl, what caresses the light pours,
the ladder at the garden corner, brings morning on earth,
a smile hides behind everything,
the time's wall has a hole through which my face is seen;
there are things which i don't know;
i know that I will die if i cut away a leaf,
i ascend, rise to the peak, i posses wings and feathers,
i can see in the darkness, i'm brimful of lanterns,
i'm brimful of cloud and earth,
i'm brimful of sun and sand,
i'm brimful of vines,
i'm brimful of path, of bridge, of river, of wave,
i'm brimful of the shadows of reeds in the water,
i'm brimful of the movement of that willow tree at the garden's end.
how my inside is empty.

sohrab sepehri