“All my being is a dark verse
that repeats you to the dawn
of unfading flowering and growth.
I conjured you in my poem with a sigh
and grafted you to water, fire, and trees.
In a room the size of loneliness,
my heart’s the size of love.
It contemplates its simple pretexts for happiness:
the beauty of the flowers’ wilting in a vase,
the sapling you planted in our garden,
and the canaries’ song—the size of a window.
ーForugh Farrokhzad, “Reborn”
Farrokhzad’s poems pierced in my heart and soul since the very first start reading, as you may witness my frequent post about her. She consumed my thought, mind, spirit and dream. I often think about her poems when the world is quiet, hearing her voice, a whispering. She made me reexamine about how I, as a woman, think, and the freedom to think. The thinking about my feeling, my body, sexuality, love and life, without fear of fallacy norms or status quo. There are hidden mysterious magic in each line of her poems. I wanna talk about her bravery. I wanna talk about her life. But then I’ll weep. Whenever I returned to her poems, those emotions stunned me. She was full of courage. She carried so much despair. She has so much meaning. I am meaningless.
A quick note on a remarkable translation by Sholeh Wolpé, a poet herself, made this reading formidable and tearsome.
Get yourself a copy of Forugh Farrokhzad. Read poems that destroy you and reborn.
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