Forough Farrokhzad - WEARY OF MOTHER-OF-PEARL EARRINGS

I’m cold and I’m weary
of mother-of-pearl earrings

I’m cold
and I know that the flaming fears
of wild poppies
result in a mere sprinkle of blood

That is why, I shall cease to mark out margins,
I shall cease to tally,
and far from elementary paths,
I shall seek refuge
in the evidence of vast designs

I am poor
poor, poor
like the silences that separate
the clement words of the poor

and my wounds are those of love
all of love, love, love

Aside from rotations
of the Equator,
after having crossed
the eruption of mountains
I, myself
found shelter on this vagrant island,
whose secret – to this partner
whose small splinters
gave birth to the sun --

is that of self-fragmentation


Forough Farrokhzâd
translated by Tatul Sonentz
from the French translation of Sylvie M. Miller