By Reza Ganjavi
She was a small old female cow. Despite being outside for a change, it had no delight. Her eyes were burdened with sorrow of being locked in year-round in a small space as a milk machine. Her friend was younger and bigger. They both listened intently to the guitar, as a small gift I could offer, in contrast to their normal living situation. Cows love music. They immediately started moving their ears. And the younger one made a big sound, telling its captive friends inside that out here it’s happening.
I tried to take away the sorrow from the eyes of the older cow, with my eyes and the love that it could still feel.