The Wind Will Carry Us
               For Abbas Kiarostami

Someone has been sleeping.  Someone’s
heading nowhere. 

This is the winding road.  Then there’s a solitary
tree, and after that, nothing,
nothing. 

If someone asks, say I’m
looking for buried treasure.  Such a lovely
village.  You’ve hidden it so well. 

I haven’t hidden anything.  Our ancestors
built it here.

See that blue window, near the lady
sitting on the steps.  Let’s
go higher.  I will

show you.  Here’s your
room. 

We have a sack of apples.  We have
fresh bread.  You won’t
get another chance

like this.  On judgement day
it’s obvious.  I’m used to it.  I work

here.  If you stay a while longer, you’ll
get used to it, too.

When I was little, and someone
told me a secret, I always wanted to reveal it. 
And, eventually, I did.  “If you come into my house

oh kind one, bring me a lamp
and a window

through which I can watch the crowd
in the happy street.”

I’m sorry to disturb you. 

You’re welcome. 
This is my normal route.