Poesia persiana

                                            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.