I heard you singing Persian songs last year,
Which made me wonder much about your life;
Were you a traveller lacking all fear,
Or close to home, within your youth a wife?
That glow upon your face made me feel old,
And fret about the years who're passing by,
What all could have been lived with you and told,
If I were younger now, so I could try.
But still, why all the sadness in your speech?
A storm within, a feeling of a fight,
Also at the same time trying to teach
The people about hope, with frame and sight.
I thought you had it all, the glow and glee,
But learned you're three years older than me.