In a cold winter night...

In a cold winter night...
The furnace of the sun also... seems to be not that warm and inspiring...
And its light is not as luminous as the light of my heart...
Even the shining moon above, seems to be frozen...

I lit up the lamp of my heart when the neighbors were walking in dark nights...
And it was a cold winter night...
The wind encircled the pine...

I lost my beloved, separated from me in this narrow lane...
And still the story is remembered...
And on my lips these words lingered:
"Who is going to light? Who is going to luminate the path?
Who is going to keep this tale in the heart?"

In a cold winter night...
The furnace of the sun also... seems to be not that warm and inspiring...
And its light is not as luminous as the light of my heart...
Even the shining moon above, seems to be frozen...

[Free translation by me of "In a cold winter night", by: Nima Yooshij, Father of Iranian contemporary poetry...]