I am that fallen butterfly without wings
I am that banal child of Greece
I am that stoning radiance of this soil
I am the suffering and painful girl of this land
O compatriot! Friend of my moments
Don’t beat me! I'm in pain from these blows
Don’t beat me, my mourning awakens my children
Don’t beat me, that melts my wounds and bruises on the mountain
Don’t beat me, my sigh and screams crush humanity
I'm still that amazing spring tree
I'm still my dad's little girl
Hear! Hear, my friend, the sound of my nightingale
Hear, my friend, the unheard voice of my youth
I am that wounded Ayesha of my sorrows
I am the sold Maryam of these men’s
See that your wounds are not inflamed yet
See that my throat is still full of hatred
You are an Afghan man on earth, so tell me, where is your pride?
You are Sohrab of this history, so tell me, where is your effort?
I was your sister, not load of your shoulders
I was your daughter, not a stain on your notoriety
I was your wife, not your silent politician
So, don’t beat me! My father, I am in pain
My brother don’t beat me, I burn silently
Don’t beat me that your fire wounds have set in my heart
Don’t beat me that your hot wood is in my heart
Don’t beat me that woke up my moans to Mohammad
Don’t beat me, which made my heat blush
Don’t beat me! I can't handle
I am lifeless and wounded
من آن پروانه یی زمین خورده یی بی بالم
من آن کودک پیش پا افتاده یی یونانم
من آن رخشانه یی سنگسار شده یی این خاکم
من آن دختر رنجور و دردمند این دیارم
ای هموطن! ای دوستکام لحظه هایم
مزن! مزن مرا که درد میکشم از این ضربات
مزن که ناله هایم فرزندانم را بیدار میکنند
مزن که زخم و زیلی هایم کوه را آب میکند
مزن که آه و فریاد هایم انسانیت را له میکند
من هنوزم آن درخت نا شگفته یی بهارم
من هنوزم آن دختر کوچک پدرم
بشنو! بشنو ای دوست صدای چه چه بلبلانم را
بشنو ای دوست صدای نا شنیده یی جوانی ام را
من آن عایشه یی زخم خورده یی بیز غم هایم
من آن مریم فروخته شده یی ای مردانم
ببین که زخم هایت هنوزم التهاب نیافت
ببین که گلویم هنوزم از بغض جای نیافت
تو مرد افغان زمینی، پس بگو کجاست غرورت؟
تو سهراب تاریخ این دیاری، پس بگو کجاست همت ات؟
من خواهر تو بودم نه بار و دوش شانه هایت
من دختر تو بودم نه لکه یی بد نامی هایت
من همسر تو بودم نه سیاسر بی صدایت
پس مزن! مزن مرا ای پدرم که درد میکشم
مزن مرا ای برادرم مزن که بی صدا میسوزم
مزن که زخم هایت آتشی در دلم نشانده
مزن که چوب هایت داغی در دلم نشانده
مزن که ناله هایم محمدی را بیدار کرد
مزن که داغ هایم سروری را سرخم کرد
مزن مرا! مزن مرا که سخت بیتابم
بی جان و زخم خورده یی بی حالم
Hi Guzel, how are you?
Thank you for sharing your poem. Your poem speaks powerfully. May this a reminder that you are still a girl...
Hello Ms. Maeann,
Thank you so much from your kindness. I just need your support,To be a supporter of my country girls. Again thank you so much
Thank you for sharing.
You are welcome dear.
"Don't beat me, my mourning awakens my children"
Says so much of the generational wounds of gender based violence :(
The girl as the woman as the girl again, still facing violence :(
Love and strength to you Guzel, you are a voice for your time.
Congratulations on such a powerful first story!
Thank you so much Ms. Nini, It is my pleasure, your kind comments made me more strong .
Hello, Guzel,
Welcome to World Pulse! I'm delighted that a new voice from Afghanistan is rising up!
Oh, my sister. Each line of your poetry is a pierce in my heart. It's painful to read that my eyes are wet with tears. What a powerful piece, dear. You've encapsulated the cries of women in Afghanistan. Keep raising up your voice, dear. Please write more.
Poems like yours can spark revolutions. The pen is mightier than the sword.
We would love to know more about you! Looking forward to reading more of your stories.
Welcome again to our growing sisterhood!
Hello Ms, karen,
I am really happy to find this page and meet with kind women like you, Your comments made me more strong it give me power to write more about violence against afghan women. Thank you so much.
I can tell this comes from deep in your soul
Yeah absolutely. thank you so much Ms. Lacey
Dear Guzel,
This is the poetry of change-makers. A powerful call out to the world that will embolden any girl who reads what you have dared to write: a challenge to the men and the government in your country. This violence is taught generation to generation for no reason but selfish control, and you have sent the message out that we are here to make this change, together. A big welcome to World Pulse!
Dear Mr. Verrall,
Thank you so much for the comment, I wish one day girls can stop this violence.
again thank you so much