The Bird May Die...
I feel sad,
I feel blue.
I go outside and rub my cold fingers-
on the sleek shell of the silent night.
I see that all lights of contact are dark,
All lanes to relate us- are blocked.
Nobody will introduce me to the sun,
Nobody will take me- to the gathering of doves.
Keep the flight in mind,
The bird may die.
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, September 2006, Montreal
Forough Farrokhzad's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Bird May Die... by Forough Farrokhzad )
- मीडिया, Priyanka Gupta
- The Daughter of the Earth - 19, gajanan mishra
- सीने में आग भरो, Aftab Alam
- Annoyance Generator, Christopher Withers
- The Lass Of Alberry, Julian Mann
- The truant.., veeraiyah subbulakshmi
- All Is This World, Gbolagade Taiwo
- Feeling Alive, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Reactions To A Poem, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Examinations, abhi mangla
Poem of the Day
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(3rd April 19sixty)