Another Birth

A dark and chanted verse is what I am

Forever bearing you

In myself imbued with you

Forth to the morning of eternal burgeonings and blooms

Oh yes I drew you through this verse oh breath

Oh yes I drew you through

This verse and crafted you

To seas to trees to fire I grafted you.

Life may be

A street crossed by a woman with a basket every day

Life may be

Rope for a man who hangs himself from a branch.

Life may be a child coming home from school.

Life may be a cigarette lighting

Up in the narcotic pause between lovemaking and love made

Or the dazed gaze of a passerby

Tipping his hat to a passerby

With a senseless smile and a Good Morning.

Life may be that cloistered moment

When my gaze comes to ruin in your pupils

Wherein there lies a feeling

Which I shall blend

With the moon's impression

And the night's perception.

In a room the size of loneliness

My heart the size of love

Looks at the simple pretext of its happiness,

The vase's flowers, their beautiful decay,

The sapling that you implanted in our garden

And the canaries' song

Wide as a window frame.

I know a sad little ocean sprite

Down in her watery haven

Who oh so softly

Plays her heart through a flute,

A sad little sprite

Who dies from a kiss at night

To be born from a kiss at dawn.

By Forugh Farrokhzad

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Impatience Is Human

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Flights. Part 1.