I have identity
I cannot write my name on my wedding
invitation: the paper is ashamed to see me
Anonymous in public
I am a woman
I have a name
My feelings call me Angel
I have a house
Nobody knows the address
I have my poetry books
I understand the language of tears
My eyes, ears, feelings are alive
I have the address of freedom
But I don’t have the certificate
I can’t ask for my rights
I don’t have that entrance pass
My identity is nameless
I am an Afghan woman
By Norwan
The author explains: “In Afghanistan, when a couple gets married, the wedding invitation will proudly state the name of the boy only, not the girl. When a man is asked his address, he will state it, but a woman is expected to give not her address, but the name of the man of the family.” Photo: Jalil Rezayee/EPA
Norwan,
Thank you for sharing with us, not only your story but who you are.
elaine
Not only are the sentiments in this poem powerful and beautiful but your use of metaphor is amazing. Wow!
I can’t quite explain how I felt when I read the line about being unable to write one’s name on a wedding invitation. In the U.S. the wedding is viewed as the woman’s day and it would be unheard of to not put her name on the invitation. Thank you for this beautiful poem. Much love and many blessings to you.