Noushin Ourmazd Photography



The road is calling out my name;
It tells me today is the day to break free.
A small backpack full of memories is on my trembling shoulders.
From all the good and bad people;<
From all the good and bad tales;
What has remained for me but a memory?
A vague image in the dust on the window

The road has put out its arms;
It’s waiting for me to go with it.

I’m singing the bitter story of goodbye, even though my lips are closed

To leave behind the memories;

All the love and all the attachment;
It’s hard but I have no choice;

The road is crying out.