What We Have Done To Butterflies - Poem by shirin sheikhi
As a herald of the empress sun
Light traveled down
Signed by the throne
Living in our scrub
We are willing to behold
Whether you are butterfly or moth
Come out of your silk cloak'
Light arrived at the poplar
White bundle adhered to the trunk
With all its tremendous might
Couldn't intrude in to spindle at all
So he called her
From another side of thread wall
'By the order of her highness, dignified
I am authorized to lead you out of your lodge
Accept her birth invitation with warmth
Open your eyes to the world out
Spread your delicate wings then fly
On the whole land for whole time
You will be the most welcome'
After some moments of silence
Your queen wants me to live a life?
Or merely exist in a vast room
More spacious than of mine?
She offers like here
Such great peace of mind?
Can she redress
The nature balance which is lost?
Would she save me
When trapped in the jars?
Wipes the wings
When stained by oily marks?
Resurrect when deceased
In ornamental box?
She may recollect
Once I was caterpillar
Making a mistake twice
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