FORBEARANCE

Tread softly
For you're treading
On Irish dreams.
From literary Dublin
To bloody Ulster,
Worldly Waterford,
Velvet green pastures,
And Moher Cliffs:
Majestic, mystical, and melancholy,
Standing like gods
In forbearance.
While an Irish lass
Plays on her harp
The sad melodies of Ireland,
Remembering the Vikings,
Anglos, and Normans
Wave upon wave
Lashing out at its shores
Only to be dissolved
Into her loving bosom.
The passion,
Poetry, politics,
of the Irish soul
Resonate well with my Persian ghosts
Of Alexander, Omar, and Chenguiz Khan
Whirlwind upon whirlwind
Tearing into tatters
with their swords
the hearths and the hearts
Only to melt
into the Persian potions of
passion, poetry, and politics.
The conquerors were conquered.

Majid Tehranian
Waterford, Ireland
August 15, 2000