The Fields of Fereydoon

Shadows from a million dreams Across the plateau thrust With mystical timeless whispers on pastel clouds of dust The surface of a pale green lake Now wears a jewelled crust The windmills of eternity Shed golden flakes of rust Drops of shimmering quicksilver Are falling from the moon The midnight sun burns crimson flame And sacred flowers bloom The jasmine scent wafts thro the trees The phantom plays a tune And streams of emerald syrup flow In Fields of Fereydoon A haunting cry for freedom sounds It echoes thro the night As nature’s tears of dewdrops shine With incandescent light The grains of destiny are heaped In dunes of snowy white The jaws of an apocalypse Are threatening to bite The liquid wheel of karma turns In sprays of deep maroon The burnished fields of history With dying buds are strewn A perfumed mistral stirs the air Around the great lagoon And the windmills keep on turning In Fields of Fereydoon