Persian afternoon

A mosque at prayer time
The song reaching up to the head of the valley


The streets stretching out
The sound of hurrying steps
A man passing by like a dancer in his pleated large trousers

The door wide open to the courtyard, the blue pool, the little dome, equally blue, the pergola
The sound of the water, the voice that preaches, the women in their veils printed with flowers, the song of the cicadas

Neither a wall, nor a mihrab to orientate the prayer, only the room open to the sky, open to the valley, open to the rocks, open to the birds
Open to the south

Mosque of Abyaneh, Isfahan province