on the death of the poet Forugh Farrokhzad Searching for you on foothills of mountains, on thresholds of oceans and meadows, I cry. Searching for you in windy passes I cry at the crossroads of seasons in the weathered wood of a broken window frame that contains a cloud-stained sky. ..... Looking for your portrait in this empty book- how long how long will pages keep turning? * To embrace the flow of wind, and love who is sister to death- eternity has shared with you this secret. And so you have taken the shape of a treasure: earned and enviable another kind of treasure which, claiming the earth, these lands in this way has made the heart embrace them.* Your name is a white dawn that passes over the sky's brow blessed be your name!-- And so we repeat the round of night and day in this way even now . . .
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