There is always those few sweet words you can remember, heard perhaps from a Sufi, an old man you can’t even remember his name, but a vague image of his you might have now, and that his words are with you for ever. Then, you know you have the words of wisdom at your disposal, so much that you want to pass it down to generations after. Literature is this very nifty vehicle that can make words of wisdom heavenly beautiful and eternal.
I can’t care if the whole world tips hat to left or right I do crave for truth, believing that truth is not that obvious with naked eyes. And materialism with its enchantments had been for too long in decisive mission to bury it under its iron footsteps. But literature along with music and art in general will prevail the truth. For their lone business is human soul.
Sound, sound, sound only sound remains....forogh farokhzad
we salute Forough, who was the first to expose herself courageously to a "veiled" society, who was not only a magnificent poet, but also a philosopher.
Forough, who broke down chains of secrecy and gender politics.
And this is I
a woman alone
at the threshold of a cold season
at the beginning of understanding
the polluted existence of the earth
and the simple and sad pessimism of the sky
and the incapacity of these concrete hands.