Afsun N
For Iran
What would my lost heart do
With the spring that arrives?
With the need that gains color
In branches of withered and black?
What would my lost heart do
With the breeze that it permeates?
Air of wild doves’ love
Breath of wandering perfumes?
My lips burn of songs
My chest with love
My skin bursts of excites
My body of buds
Every now I surge within
I leave, leaving for far distance
Burning ball of the Sun
On my way in the fever of light
Poetry of Forough Farrokhzad
Translated from Persian
For Iran
What would my lost heart do
With the spring that arrives?
With the need that gains color
In branches of withered and black?
What would my lost heart do
With the breeze that it permeates?
Air of wild doves’ love
Breath of wandering perfumes?
My lips burn of songs
My chest with love
My skin bursts of excites
My body of buds
Every now I surge within
I leave, leaving for far distance
Burning ball of the Sun
On my way in the fever of light
Poetry of Forough Farrokhzad
Translated from Persian