Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I have not heard from my sister for many years. I do not know if she is alive
Bashir Sakhawarz, Afghan poet


My sister


Through the thickness of distance,
Through the walls of mountains,
Through the depth of oceans,
Last night I touched you
I touched your pain
They became mine.

There is no meaning in children smile
Flowers grow, but are they flowers?
Children smile, but are they smiling?
Without your children
Without your garden
Flowers and smile do not grow
Without your hand,
Life delivers emptiness

When I departed
You whispered "take care"
Have you taken care?
Have you built a dream?
Have you not seen crashed hopes?
Have you avoided disasters?
Disasters are in the air
They grow in your garden
They fall off the trees.

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