Treasure Island

Forough Farrokhzad

(5 January 1935 - 14 February 1967 / Tehran)

The Wind Will Take Us Away


In my little night, alas
The storm has a fateful tryst
with the sweet sleep of the trees.

In my little night, alas
The freezing fright of ruin streams.

Listen!
The shadows are stepping by…
We must flee.

This bliss seems so odd to me,
I am addicted to my despair,
I feel that something will disrupt
this flowing peace of our quiet night.

**&**

Listen!
The shadows are stepping by…
We must flee.

Don’t you see?
Our roof is shaking in fear of collapse,
and over this roof, an immense dark cloud,
like a dull, grieving crowd,
is expecting the moment of cry.

Don’t you hear?
Night is marching behind the window’s glass
and the wind is cutting our yard’s breath
It seems that stranger eyes
are watching this house.

Listen!
The shadows are stepping by…
We must flee.

**&**

You,
O green like the soul of the leaves,
Put your hands into mine,
And hold them like the burning memories of love.

You,
O green like the soul of the leaves,
Leave your lips to the stroke of mine,
And savor them like the swell flavor of an old wine.

If we forget,
The wind will take us away,
The wind will take us away.


Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, May 2006, October 2006, Montreal.

Submitted: Thursday, December 29, 2011

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