Nadia Anjuman was an Afghan poet and journalist from Afghanistan.
In 2005, while still a student at Herat University, she had her first book of poetry published, Gul-e-dodi ("Dark Red Flower") which proved popular in Afghanistan, Pakistan and even nearby Iran. Then, on November 4 of that year, police officers found her body in her home in the western city of Herat. Soon afterward, a senior police officer, Nisar Ahmad Paikar, stated that her husband had confessed to battering her, following a row, but not to killing her. It was reported that she died as a result of injuries to her head.
The United Nations condemned the killing soon afterwards. Their spokesperson, ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Nadia Anjuman Poems
No desire to open my mouth What should I sing of...? I, who am hated by life.
From this cup of my lips comes a song; It captures my singing soul, my song.
A Voiceless Cry
The sound of green footsteps is the rain They're coming in from the road, now Thirsty souls and dusty skirts brought from the desert
Light Blue Memories
O exiles of the mountain of oblivion! O the jewels of your names, slumbering in the mire of silence O your obliterated memories, your light blue memories In the silty mind of a wave in the sea of forgetting
O the one who hides in the mountain of unfamiliarity! O you that sleep in the quietness of the pearl. O who remains in the memories!
Memories of light blue
You, exiles of the mountains of oblivion You, diamonds of your names sleeping in quagmire of silence You the ones your memories faded, memories of light blue
Comments about Nadia Anjuman
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
No desire to open my mouth
What should I sing of...?
I, who am hated by life.
No difference to sing or not to sing.
Why should I talk of sweetness,
When I feel bitterness?
Oh, the oppressor's feast
Knocked my mouth.
I have no companion in life
Who can I be sweet for?
No difference to speak, to laugh,
To die, to be.
Me and my strained solitude.
With sorrow and sadness.
I was borne for nothingness.
My mouth should be sealed.
Oh my heart, you know it is spring
And time to celebrate.
What should I do with a trapped wing,
Which does not let ...