Winter 2007 • Vol. XXIX No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 2007 |

Fardid’s Stone

From the Persian.    The stone illuminated with a sickle and letters of the Persian alphabet (Nast'aliq script, honey tree, pistachio tree), a bee's hive, and the grape's fear of hands and feet, and the hour in Fardid's voice who said: A book gets its soul from words, so that what's left unread is its flesh. HereI haven't found a word—a word that kneels with meLike your kneeling on my grave—Except grave—a word that kneels with youThere

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