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 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Anais Nin
"Why one writes is a question I can never answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me – the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art.
...
"We also write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely … When I don’t write, feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing."
('The New Woman', 1974)
 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Ramin Ara
The hidden self
Finds a way
At the treasure store
Of life
 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Ramin Ara
Intellect is
An interpreter
Of your words
 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Ramin Ara
Under the azure sky
A nice village
With kindly people
...دامن دخترش بود

That skirt was for her daughter...
 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Ramin Ara
Soon
They will appear
Delicate and perfect flowers
Spring is on the way
 Jan 2017 Lydia Hirsch
Aeerdna
I was walking around aimlessly
In my dream last night
When I finally reached the hill
Between the end of the world
And the beginning of it;

And I climbed that hill
While the light was disolving into the dark
And the sky was blue and red
While the trees were silhouettes
Against the dark clouds.

Then the wind started blowing
And I felt sad and happy at the same time;
I closed my eyes and let it take away
Pieces of my restless soul—
I was dying, but never have I felt more alive.

When the last piece was about to fly
I woke and realised—
The wind was you
And I was no longer alive.

Forever cursed to wander
Between death and life.
Forever will I chase the wind
To get my soul back.
my lips
are kissing
a cow...
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