Marziyeh A. Oskouee

 

 

 

I am a woman

 

 

 

I am a woman

I am from the ruins of smog and coyness

 

a woman

 

who from the beginning

has travelled across

the strong craving of the earth

to search for a drop of water

 

a woman

who from the beginning

has felt the heaviness of pain

barefoot with her lank cattle

from the arising to the setting of the sun

from dusk to dawn

on the threshing floor

I am a woman

I am from the homeless tribes of plains and mountains

 

 

a woman

who gives birth to her baby

in the mountains

and longs for her goat lost

in the depths of the desert

and mourns.

 

I am a mother

a sister

a spouse

a woman

 

a woman from the dead hamlets of the south

 

a woman

 

who from the beginning

has travelled barefoot across

this weary soil

 

I am from the small villages of the north

 

 

a woman

 

who from the beginning

has worked till the last drop of her strength

in rice fields and farms

 

I am a woman

a worker whose hands

operate huge factory machines

every day

the cogwheels sap her strength

in front of her eyes

 

a woman

who fattens bloodsuckers

by her life's vigour

and by her flowing blood

multiplies the profit of capitalists

 

 

Nowhere does your shameful culture allow

her hands to be smooth

her stature to be erect

her hair to be perfumed

 

I am a woman

with hands bleeding from

the sharp sword of pain and suffering

 

a woman

whose stature

because of your shameless thirst for bounty,

has been easily broken

under intolerable toil

 

a woman

 

whose heart

is brimming

with festering wounds of anger

 

a woman

 

who has the blood-red reflection

of freedom's bullets

swelling in her eyes

 

a woman

 

whose skin

is the sun's mirror of the desert

and her hair smells of smoke,

 

 

All of my stature

is an emblem of pain

and my body

is the embodiment of hatred

 

 

 

a woman

 

whose toil

has created the hands

to take up arms

 

I am a freedom fighter

 

a woman

who from the beginning

has travelled across plains

shoulder to shoulder

with her comrades and brothers

 

a woman

 

from whom

the powerful arms of the workers,

from whom

the powerful arms of the peasants,

have been created

 

I am a worker

I am a peasant.

 

 

 

English interpretation by: A. Behrang