Afghan Women's Writing Project
There is something to share…
There is something to tell…
but always a wall in front of me
I saw you in my dreams
I saw that you were happy
I saw you had purple flowers in your hands
I wish I wrote my destiny
With silver colors of happiness
That shined in my life
Always have you in my mind and soul
Thinking of you every minute
Waiting for you
After that I relax / On the ground under the pear tree / And nap. / There is nothing new. / Tomorrow it is the same.
I wish Afghanistan was not a country / But instead a dry land / And no one lived in it. / I wish my country was not my love / I suffer from its pains.
When I woke up / I was in your grave / and tears / fell from my eyes
I won’t come back / I won’t come back / It makes no difference if I die / It makes no difference if all of you forget me / I won’t come back to you
Sweetheart! / Kind sun, I cannot forget / your first words, / melting with love, passion / spoken to me / in colors and with flowers.
Now, my heart,
you know nature,
humans—who we are.
History is changed by the small actions of ordinary people. —Zahra A.
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