Tag Archive | Iran

Dancing street

 

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Dancing street is
Where I lived at in Shiraz

It was actually called
Ghasr’u’dast
The palace in the meadow
But we called it Raghs’u’dasht
The dancing street
As a tribute to the multitude
Of potholes that made us dance

It was a long narrow street
That led out of Shiraz
To the tiny town called Ghasr’u’dasht

There, at the end of a
Dead-end street
Called Zargary, the Goldsmith
My father built a house
Which seemed like a palace to me

It had many rooms
And a huge back yard
A large garage
And a multi-coloured gate
At the front

We had many dinner parties
And house-guests
My mother made meals fit
For a king
And we entertained a lot

We had guests from Tehran
The US and Africa
Some were relatives
Some were friends
And some were Baha’is from abroad

I remember walking and singing
In the grassy area of the back yard

And playing with the weeping willows
As I sang songs

This was my childhood home
Until we left Iran
It was off the dancing street
Outside Shiraz

My bracelets

 

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My bracelets
Gold
Round
Shiny

My bracelets
My connection to Iran
My connection to my childhood
My constant companions
Jewelry I got from my mom

They let you know when I’m near
They jingle as I move
My kids have played with them
When they were young

They have stayed with me
Throughout the years
Through the good and the hard times

I buy other bracelets
Thinking I’ll wear them sometime
But my golden bracelets
Are the ones that are constantly
On my arms

January 11th, 2018

 

Sweets from Yazd

imageThere is something about the familiar
Which is very comforting
No introduction necessary
Old feelings come to fore:
A box of Persian sweets from ran
Brought by my cousin
Sent by my aunt
Takes me back to my visit to Yazd

I pick up the Sohané Ardi
And gently take a first bite
As it melts in my mouth
My senses take me years back
When one spring
My father, mother, brother and I
Drove to that part of Iran

My first memory is of gazing at the sky
Dotted thickly with luminous stars
So many stars that the sky seemed white

The endless dessert around us
Dust on the road
Dust in the car

The wide streets of Yazd
The numerous bakeries in town
Seeing pashmak* being made
Smelling the sweets all around

I take a second bite of Sohan
A feast for my taste buds

Now comes the memory of Naw Ruz
When we used to live in Iran
Where our Haft Seen table was prepared with love

The family visits
The sweets we ate
The shirini** my mom baked
The love we shared

And now…
The Haji Badoom, Baklava
Nane Berenjy and Sohan
Cause these memories to flood my mind!

Lida Berghuis
April 4th, 2010

 

Written after receiving sweets from dear aunt Badri

*pashmak is a Persian sweet resembling
cotton candy

**shirini is sweets in Persian

fifty

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We were fifteen
The cream of the crop
From all over Iran
Wide eyed and ready to take on the world

Idealism was the order of the day
Most things seemed possible at the time
Yet we had a lot to learn

Now, we’re fifty
Time has passed
We have scattered all over Iran
All over the world
No longer naive, we have experienced life
We have experienced love and heartache

Perhaps we now know the value of
Friendship more
Won’t take it for granted, if we once did

Each of us has forged a path
Done wonderful things
Challenges have been there too
But that’s where friendship comes in

Now our messages criss-cross the world
Weaving a web of love as they do
Perhaps a love exists that didn’t exist before
Living life has taught us this

We were fifteen, and now we’re fifty
My dear friends, it couldn’t be better than this!

Lida Berghuis
June 30th, 2015