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The tale of the Afghan woman is one of merit,
Of dominance and disruption to a soul of spirit,
A misplaced reality and a buried truth,
A masked victory, seldom dug by the sleuth.
What the burqa hides are actions that speak
What the burqa hides are minds seen bleak.
What the burqa hides are hearts that desire
What the burqa hides are stories that inspire.
It began in a village, they all called Eden,
As busy as the bee, as bright as the sun.
When each morning brought something new,
As fresh as grass, as the dawn-break dew.
What the burqa hides are voices unheard,
What the burqa hides are potentials seen absurd.
What the burqa hides are struggles to commit
What the burqa hides are longings to permit.
In the gathering of friends and a loved one
Moving quickly, getting the chores done,
In fields so vast, sweet scented and green
With the blossoming of fruits so rare and unseen.
What the burqa hides are hearts shattered,
What the burqa hides are beauties flattered.
What the burqa hides are eyes that plead
What the burqa hides are hearts that bleed.
The sweet bliss of youth had entered our lives
The beauty of the village, cluttered like hives.
The clearness of the blue skies reflected our hearts,
Like the target of a player’s board, they were pierced with darts.
What the burqa hides are hands with magic,
What the burqa hides are minds with logic
What the burqa hides are voices with spells
What the burqa hides are feet with bells.
The bloodshed of war becoming second nature
The weaponry being used, a new feature.
Now black, were laid the gardens so ever green,
Now dead, were laid the loved ones so frequently seen.
What the burqa hides are eyes with tears,
What the burqa hides, are hearts with fears,
What the burqa hides are hopes and dreams,
What the burqa hides are silent screams.
A father, a brother or husband is her pride they say,
No longer a backbone, if they are reduced to lay,
At the head of a cold stone, made of fresh clay
The thought caused paralysis, but reality hit that day.
What the burqa hides are hearts widened
What the burqa hides are lives once brightened.
What the burqa hides are wild imaginations
What the burqa hides are unique creations.
At the hands of the enemy, we suffered bitterly
Like fierce ocean tides, yet we resisted emotionally.
Torture, immorality, stripped of our homes and respect,
The target of blame, they were quick to suspect.
What the burqa hides are tears with stories
What the burqa hides are faces with worries.
What the burqa hides are eyes so darkened
What the burqa hides are bodies so weakened.
With hardened knots, with all our might,
We left Eden knowing it was its last sight.
To a new land we were destined to go,
To a new people, we were obliged to know.
What the burqa hides are questions unanswered
What the burqa hides are souls forever wounded
What the burqa hides are tales mistaken frequently
What the burqa hides is deceit you multiply boldly.
No belongings, no possessions, with no valuables we went
Leaving behind the soil, the love and the unique scent
To a flock ambitious and hungry for its atypical riches
Aware that forever it would serve as one of the putrid glitches.
What the burqa hides are tales beyond your sense
What the burqa hides are tales grave and for you dense.
What the burqa hides are tales you underestimate
What the burqa hides are tales that await their sweet fate.
Today, we live in a dispersed, lonely state
Aware its roots lie in the destruction of hate.
We live longing to tell this tale, to spread the word
And break the chains, to attain the freedom of every bird.
©MR 2010
Of dominance and disruption to a soul of spirit,
A misplaced reality and a buried truth,
A masked victory, seldom dug by the sleuth.
What the burqa hides are actions that speak
What the burqa hides are minds seen bleak.
What the burqa hides are hearts that desire
What the burqa hides are stories that inspire.
It began in a village, they all called Eden,
As busy as the bee, as bright as the sun.
When each morning brought something new,
As fresh as grass, as the dawn-break dew.
What the burqa hides are voices unheard,
What the burqa hides are potentials seen absurd.
What the burqa hides are struggles to commit
What the burqa hides are longings to permit.
In the gathering of friends and a loved one
Moving quickly, getting the chores done,
In fields so vast, sweet scented and green
With the blossoming of fruits so rare and unseen.
What the burqa hides are hearts shattered,
What the burqa hides are beauties flattered.
What the burqa hides are eyes that plead
What the burqa hides are hearts that bleed.
The sweet bliss of youth had entered our lives
The beauty of the village, cluttered like hives.
The clearness of the blue skies reflected our hearts,
Like the target of a player’s board, they were pierced with darts.
What the burqa hides are hands with magic,
What the burqa hides are minds with logic
What the burqa hides are voices with spells
What the burqa hides are feet with bells.
The bloodshed of war becoming second nature
The weaponry being used, a new feature.
Now black, were laid the gardens so ever green,
Now dead, were laid the loved ones so frequently seen.
What the burqa hides are eyes with tears,
What the burqa hides, are hearts with fears,
What the burqa hides are hopes and dreams,
What the burqa hides are silent screams.
A father, a brother or husband is her pride they say,
No longer a backbone, if they are reduced to lay,
At the head of a cold stone, made of fresh clay
The thought caused paralysis, but reality hit that day.
What the burqa hides are hearts widened
What the burqa hides are lives once brightened.
What the burqa hides are wild imaginations
What the burqa hides are unique creations.
At the hands of the enemy, we suffered bitterly
Like fierce ocean tides, yet we resisted emotionally.
Torture, immorality, stripped of our homes and respect,
The target of blame, they were quick to suspect.
What the burqa hides are tears with stories
What the burqa hides are faces with worries.
What the burqa hides are eyes so darkened
What the burqa hides are bodies so weakened.
With hardened knots, with all our might,
We left Eden knowing it was its last sight.
To a new land we were destined to go,
To a new people, we were obliged to know.
What the burqa hides are questions unanswered
What the burqa hides are souls forever wounded
What the burqa hides are tales mistaken frequently
What the burqa hides is deceit you multiply boldly.
No belongings, no possessions, with no valuables we went
Leaving behind the soil, the love and the unique scent
To a flock ambitious and hungry for its atypical riches
Aware that forever it would serve as one of the putrid glitches.
What the burqa hides are tales beyond your sense
What the burqa hides are tales grave and for you dense.
What the burqa hides are tales you underestimate
What the burqa hides are tales that await their sweet fate.
Today, we live in a dispersed, lonely state
Aware its roots lie in the destruction of hate.
We live longing to tell this tale, to spread the word
And break the chains, to attain the freedom of every bird.
©MR 2010
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