It is night and these words come to me
By the call of my voice words come to me
What fire blazes in me, what water do I get?
From my body, the fragrance of my soul comes to me
I do not know from where these great words come
The fresh breeze takes loneliness away from me
That from the clouds of light comes this light
That there is no other wish that comes to me
The cry of my heart sparkles like a star
And the bird of my flight touches the sky
From "Ghazal" by Nadia Anjuman, translated by Khizra Aslam.
Anjuman was a young poet from Herat, Afghanistan who was beaten to death by her husband in 2005. The complete text of this poem, along with more of her work, can be found at this web page. There is a Wikipedia stub on her here.
For more information about the ghazal as a poetic form, go here.
Expulsion, Moon and Firelight, Thomas Cole, c.1828. Image from Web Gallery of Art.
3 comments:
"was beaten to death by her husband in 2005"
That is just sickening! It makes me so very, very angry to read of the ongoing repression and violence against women Afghanistan. I recently read about the numerous women who are burning themselves to death to escape their awful lives. Some don't die, but live scarred and in pain. It's hard to read.
Her poems are sad, but beautiful.
Yes, and now the plan is to negotiate with "moderate" Taliban, the most vicious misogynists in the history of the human race. The war has done precious little to help Afghan women, and there's no sign that anyone cares to make that a priority.
I agree, it's scandalous.
And bloody depressing...
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