In Love with Sadness
I wish I were like fall...I wish I were like fall
I wish I were like fall, silent, with no desires at all
My wishes' leaves would one by one turn sallow-gold
My eyes' sun would grow cold
The heavens of my breast would fill with pain
And suddenly a storm of grief would seize my heart
Like rain my tears would start
And stain my dress
Oh...how lovely then, if I were like fall
Feral and bitter, with colors seeping into one another, so beautiful
In my eyes a poet would read...a heavenly poem
In my chest a lover's heart would flare with fire
And in its sparks a hidden pain
My song...
Like a breeze's voice, with broken wings,
The scent of grief would drip on hearts grown tired of things.
In front of me
The bitter face of a new winter:
Behind me
Summer's sudden love, all its commotion.
My breast
The home of sadness, pain, suspicion
I wish I were like fall...I wish I were like fall
~Forugh Farrokhzad (1934-1967), in The Mirror of my Heart: A Thousand Years of Persian Poetry by Women translated by Dick Davis (New York, 2019), p. 185
