Every Woman Knows Her Own Tree by Bejan Matur

When I came to you
I meant to unfurl my wings
Over the lifeless city
Built of black stone,
To perch on the branch of a tree I found
And call out in pain.

Every woman knows her own tree.

That night I flew.
I passed the city where darkness was afraid to go.
When shadowless, the soul was alone. I howled.

translated by George Messo

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