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