And these cardboard stars
Spinned in orbit around eternity…
Why did they summon an authority?
Why did they invite a mere glance
To the residence of vision?
Why did they pile caresses
On the tresses of virgin modesty?
Behold – in this place -- the one
Whose soothing words
And caressing glance
Dissipated dread
Now hangs
On the gallows
Of your shadows… and how
Your fingers’ five stems -- once
Five digits of integrity –
Have left their mark
On her cheek
Forough Farrokhzâd
translated by Tatul Sonentz
from the French translation of Sylvie M. Miller
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