I. The Question
In a rush
she forgot to put it on
risking criticism
on Ali Baba Street.
Because
she does not wear
a scarf today
should she consider herself
a sinner.
II. The Answer
Now half-buried
in dirt
the sand in her mouth
tastes like blood.
Hidden under a hijab sac
her lungs do not release
a single cry
while they stone her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem