The Better One

Sohrab Sepehri

Translated by David Grayson and Salim Madjd

She arrived at the foot of the mountainous night.
The bright ringing of her footsteps shattered the mirror of
     emptiness.
I raised my hand in the sorrowing darkness
and pointed to the hollow galaxy of loneliness.
The falling-star look in her eye was dead.
I pointed to the dust of caravans 
and the glow of side roads
and the infinite gravel-lands of silence, too,
and she . . . 
her body was extinguished.
A sorrowful lullaby breezed over me.
The seep of her dark glance mixed with the humming of
     green grasses.
And suddenly – 
from the fire of her lips a smile sparked.	
Deep in her eyes, the mountainous night collapsed.
And I,
in the rapture of watching, was the forgotten voice.