Behind the seas

I'll build myself a boat
and launch it on the sea.
I'll sail away from this strange lans
where no one awakens the heroes
in the forest of Love.

My boat has no net,
and my heart desires no pearl.
I'll sail on and on.
the alarm bells of rain are sounded.
One is lonely here
and in this loneliness,
the shade of an elm flows on to eternity.

If you are coming to see me,
pray step gently, softly
lest the thin shell of my loneliness
should crack.

Poshte daryaha, By Sohrab Sepehri, poorly translated by Fariba.