What happened on a September day in 1973
Is already an old story
But imagine a sieve, or rather, a screen
Placed in front of your memories
And everything passing through it
The faces of all men and women you loved
The children you saw and spoke with
The grass on which you slept
The stars you watched, the camels you rode
The rabbits you followed
Imagine all of them and other memories
Passing through the screen
And changing and changing, constantly changing
And becoming things which are unrecognizable
Imagine all love and beauty kept behind that screen
Or memories distorted, standing upside down
Or swollen like decomposing flesh
Imagine a hell you recognize to have been your personal paradise
Imagine
I used to be innocent --From "I Used to Be Innocent," by Reza Baraheni