Far away from the women wearing black from head to toe
Far away from the fingers searching body and mind
Far away from the chopped-off breasts and sewn-up lips
Far away from the polluted streams and poisoned fish
in your garden
on the carpet you have spread beneath the poplar tree
I drink tea
a butterfly alighting on my palm
Translated from Farsi by the author and Hans-Christian Oeser
Intense, shocking imagery, strong from personal observation. Like a storm gatering and then the moment on the rug- such dramatic contrast of delicate beauty. Yet the impending yet now distant power of the first stanza still resonates in the second in the held moment of the butterfly on your palm. The rug (so beautiful they are, in color and tradition) spread ourtdoors in the "garden", both symbolic and real- oh this is such a still and vividly moving moment.
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