Happy remains
Sad remains
Pensive and secretive remains,
Affable, elegant remains
Remains that are fond of delicacies,
At breaks that are chosen by time, in an uncertain context where light will not stay,
And where desire is nothing but the purchase of the decayed fruits of thoughtlessness
How strange are these people who wait for an accident at crossroads,
How strange are these strident whistles shrills
- when all that needs to be done is
when all that has to be done is,
When all that should be done is
to run a man over under the wheels of time
to run a man over under the wheels of time
A man who came forward between the wet trees
Forough Farrokhzad (Cold Season)
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