Enough imitating men. Don’t be afraid. Flee from the mold into which they have forced you. Release yourselves and without any temerity speak about your dreams, your nightmares, your pain and suffering. Speak of your dreams and be your true selves.
--Translated by @Sholeh_Wolpe
@wwborders Campus is launching resources to about Iranian literature, featuring texts by 16 Iranian writers, including poet @ForughPoet, novelists @AbdohSalar & Amir Ahmadi Arian, journalist Habibe Jafarian & cartoonist @ManaNeyestani, find out more here:
https://t.co/MsY5G0f8AD
"I sensed my skin crack from love’s dilating joy"
For your Valentine's Day reading, here's Forugh Farrokhzad's poem "Connection," translated from Persian by @Sholeh_Wolpe. https://t.co/A6XhIQuj3I
No one thinks of the flowers / No one wants to believe that the garden is dying/ that its heart has swollen in the heat of this sun ...
sponsored by @wwborders
https://t.co/h3KwhFJTIA
Georgia voters—If you're in line before the polls close at 7 pm, stay there. You have the right to vote, no matter how long it takes. If you have questions, call the Georgia voter protection hotline at 1-888-730-5816. Let's bring this home.
We're loving this performance of Forugh Farrokhzad poems in Persian and English by poet @Sholeh_Wolpe and musician Sahba Motalelbi.
https://t.co/hGlSuqgcYp
@TheAmScho I speak from the deep end of night.
Of end of darkness I speak.
I speak of deep night ending.
O kind friend, if you visit my house,
bring me a lamp, cut me a window,
so I can gaze at the swarming alley of the fortunate.
– trans. Sholeh Wolpé
@IranianWin@WomenRead@TheAmScho@womenwritersnet@Sholeh_Wolpe@ForoughPoetry@WomenWriters I speak from the deep end of night.
Of end of darkness I speak.
I speak of deep night ending.
O kind friend, if you visit my house,
bring me a lamp, cut me a window,
so I can gaze at the swarming alley of the fortunate.
–From Sin: Selected Poems, trans. Sholeh Wolpé
One can cunningly belittle
every perplexing puzzle.
Alone, occupy oneself with crosswords,
content with unimportant words,
yes, unimportant letters, no more than five or six.
(from Windup Doll. translated by: @Sholeh_Wolpe )
Swelled corpses pen the morgue’s thoughts,
the cad hides his yellowness in the dark,
and the cockroach
… ah when the cockroach harangues,
why should I stop?
Trans. by #sholehwolpe @voice_film