Farzin Khoshchin

The Nose of the Parson

"One who dares light a candle in the dark",
Is not just a noun clause!
For the dparture of the last ark,
Is a-getting too close,
But one dose not feel like to embark,
'Cause she with pigs overflows,
And it errects the sensation to lurk,
While her compass is the parson's nose.

To the heroes

Between God above and man below,
There is no another hero;
Man may become God if he will,
By setting a number before zero
Or he may beat on the heroic drum,
By driving away God's pram.
Though his fate may be an ordeal,
He's the hero in the heroic dram.

To the Iranian Students

The love- blood has our hart,
By which we paint our art
In your heart drink our wine,
That the day's not yours and not mine
Though the night's dropped curtain,
Listen to the words of certain
That no one has ever submitted seen,
Neither you and nor even me Farzin.

A Blank Page

There is still ablank page
Waiting to deliver a message
To you
One is still insistsing on his poin
Of view
While the other's existsing on
The pew
One is still shooting on
His Jew
While the other is looking for
Something new
And who 'll know which is lie
Which is true?
A blank page
Doesn't give the massage
What is due.


When the silence covers the earth,
In the very heart of exile,
Till voice flies apace,
I'll sit alone for a while;
The weather is so weary,
And the time is so liar,
'Tis written in my diary;
One should cry higher,
And dig towards the future a burrow,
And let what may come tomorrow,
Some towers are made of ivory,
Then let the sharp looks be arrow
Sure, the devil's in the power,
While your eagle-thought feels sorrow,
Then wait for the morning under the dark peel,
And let your fate be an ordeal;
Somebody believes in God for obscurity,
And takes shelter by the devil for security!
But do not die!
Some towers are made of ivory,
Then let the sharp looks be arrow.

Tillbaka till kultursidan

Tillbaka till Immigrant-institutets hemsida