From The Mirror and the Rose, Anthology of Sufi Women Poets

The tempest rages around my house, its defenses crumble,

its foundations vacillate to the wind.

I am a bird who, returning to her nest to rest,

finds water has flooded her refuge.

For many years pain has    been my companion

Still I do not complain          against fate, and this proud   battle

is turned against    desperation, and then  flight:

I am the Rostam* of this  late age.

*Hero of Iranian epos, symbol of courage.

O waterfall, who are you weeping for?

For whose painful memory do you frown?

Which is the sorrow which causes you, as well as me,

To spend the whole night hitting your head on the stone

shedding tears?


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