There is no sun on our land
The birds don’t fly anymore
Rivers don’t drain the thirsty lands
The sky is pale and has stopped crying…
The dreams have died
When there is no peace.
By Fariba H.
Photo by Sigurd Gartmann
There is no sun on our land
The birds don’t fly anymore
Rivers don’t drain the thirsty lands
The sky is pale and has stopped crying…
The dreams have died
When there is no peace.
By Fariba H.
Photo by Sigurd Gartmann
With six lines, Fariba, you are saying it all. What a profound poem. Peace can be like the oxygen in the air that because we don’t see it, we take it for granted. But it is the prerequisite for human thriving. Wishing you, your countrypeople, and all of us, peace–beautiful, deep-going peace. Stacy
Incredible. I’m speechless.
This gave me goosebumps.
Heartbreaking truths — beautifully written.