Forugh Farrokzhad'a Nazire 2

“ANOTHER BIRTH”

Life is perhaps an unknown
         we write through poems
        we look into hospital corridors
Suprising a new born child at the first gaze


Life is perhaps a fire we set our lives in to
                      Warmandhot
                     Fleshandblood
 Flowing hard trough

      war                       men                    heart


Life is perhaps drinking cup of tea
After a long run of yearning
A dried mouth
Full of callow words thirsty


Life is perhaps holding a pencil on throat of papers
Killing every lie told under sun-
    light
           white
Writing for the alive 
  and 

      dead
               black.

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