Flute Player by Farzaneh Khojandi Where is the real bazaar?I want to buy an eyeful of kindness.I want to dress my soul in hyperbole.There’s a merchant who brings mea whole spectrum of leaping colourfrom the city of desires.But here at the bazaar at Khojand,faces are sour, talk is hotand I long for the cool sweets of Tabriz.Where is the real bazaar?The flute-player tells me:come with your ears used to insults,and listen to the light recite a prayer to the dark.Open your eyes used to pale shameand see the beauty of Truth.Where is the real bazaar?The flute-player is therecalling my heart…Read More