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O, hey, man who has burned
My lips with the sparkling flames of kisses,
Have you seen anything in the depth of
My two silent eyes of the secret of this madness?

Do you have any idea that, in my heart, I
Hid a dream of your love?
Do you have any idea that of this hidden love
I had a raging fire on my soul?

They have said that that woman is a mad woman
Who gives kisses freely from her lips;
Yes, but kisses from your lips
Bestow life on my dead lips.

May the thought of reputation never be in my head.
This is I who seeks you for satisfaction in this way.
I crave a solitude and your embrace;
I crave a solitude and the lips of the cup.

An opportunity far from the eyes of others
To pour you a goblet from the wine of life,
A bed of roses so that one night
I might give you intoxication.

O, hey, man who has burned my lips
With the flames of kisses,
This is a book without a conclusion,
And you have read only a brief page from it.

About The Poet:

The poem and its author deserve their own separate discussion. Furugh Farrukhzad (1935-67) is one of the most extraordinary Persian or Iranian poets of the twentieth century. Even through perhaps inevitably inadequate translations, one can sense the deep humanity and beauty of her verses. Farrukhzad, born into a middle class Tehran family, came of age in the wake of the CIA-organized coup in 1953 that brought down the regime of nationalist Mohammad Mossadeq and restored the Shah to power. It was an extremely difficult and, in many ways, disheartening period; “eternal twilight,” in the words of one of Farrukhzad’s poems. She held, according to a biographer, a “popular secular intellectual view” of Iranian society.  – Source