Every woman knows her own tree

When I came to you

I was going to open my wings

over that deserted city

built of black stones,

and find a tree and perch on its branches

and shout with pain.



Every woman knows her own tree.



That night I flew.

I passed over the city that darkness feared to enter.

Having no shadow the soul

was lonely.



I howled like a dog.

© translated by Ruth Christie

by Bejan Matur

Comments (1)

A great start with the lovely line... I was going to open my wings over that deserted city built of black stones, And the most striking one is.. Every woman knows her own tree. You have described woman psychology so elegantly dear poetess. Hats off to your great art of poetry and your skill of picking the most appropriate words. Thanks for the sharing of this nicely crafted poem. A huge 10+++ for it. Regards. Subhas, India.