Forugh Farrokhzad da “La strage dei fiori”
A window
A window to see
A window to hear
A window like the mouth of a well
Reach the bottom of the earth's heart.
And open along this continuous blue grace,
A window that in the nocturnal favour of the scent of noble stars
Overflows of little hands of solitude,
And from there we can invite the sun
To the exile of the geraniums.
I only need a window
I come from the country of dolls
Under the shade of paper trees
In the garden of a picture book
From the dry seasons of the arid experience of friendship and love
From the dusty paths of innocence
From the flourishing years in the pale letters of the alphabet
From behind the desks of an unhealthy school
When the children now knew
Write the word stone on the board
The confused flocks flew from the old trees.
I come from the heart between the roots of carnivorous plants
And my head still
He trembles at the terrible scream of a butterfly
Crucified on the album with a pin.
When my faith was hanged on the fragile ropes of justice
And in the whole city
They tore the heart of my eyes to pieces,
When they suffocated with the black handkerchief of the law
The childish eyes of my love
And from the pulsating temples of my hope
Blood flowed up,
When my life was no longer anything,
Nothing, if not the ticking of a watch,
I realised that I had to love,
To love, to love madly.
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