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“O, weary angels, don’t look at me with those eyes. If that is your state then what of our cries? What can I tell you of goodness that you don’t already know? What can I tell you of faith, of hope and love that you yourselves bestow? O, angels, don’t pluck another feather, this isn’t the sky, it’s just the weather. Please, angels, try. We are one all together. Look up and listen, I’ll say it once and then put down my pen: We are sorry for our ignorance and even though we are worldly, it might happen again. We are sorry for your weariness and even though you aren’t worldly, we are no more than human.” — Kamand Kojouri
O, weary angels,
don’t look at me with those eyes.
If that is your state
then what of our cries?
What can I tell you of goodness
that you don’t already know?
What can I tell you of faith,
of hope and love
that you yourselves bestow?
O, angels,
don’t pluck another feather,
this isn’t the sky,
it’s just the weather.
Please, angels, try.
We are one all together.
Look up and listen,
I’ll say it once and then put down my pen:
We are sorry for our ignorance
and even though we are worldly,
it might happen again.
We are sorry for your weariness
and even though you aren’t worldly,
we are no more than human.