"The Bird May Die"

Foto: Sandra para 
 Resim & Fotoğraf.

I feel sad,
I feel blue.

I go outside and rub my cold fingers–
on the sleek shell of the silent night.

I see that all lights of contact are dark.
All lanes to relate us- are blocked.

Nobody will introduce me to the sun.
Nobody will take me- to the gathering of doves.

Keep the flight in mind,–
The bird may die.

Forough Farrokhzad, 1962
(Trans.: MD, September 2006, Montreal)