13 April 2013
I’m talking to you,
With you,
I am unable to name you,
Why don’t you tell me who you are, I’m talking to you,
You, the one who in middle of the night stole six sinless puppies from their Mother,
The one who so cruelly, thievishly, left them helpless in the bitter cold of Winter in the desert,
The one who lacks the courage to call out for kindness of a helping hand,
Who are you?
I wish you had waited until I could look into your eyes,
Tell me,
When you took them away from their Mother’s warmth, did you look in her eyes?
I have a question for you.
You, the one who opposes the first words of spaying, claiming it’s cruel,
Do you know how many dogs you have violated now?
I have a question for you.
Do you have a child in your home?
You, How can you sit at your Norooz Alter, hold your child’s hand and pray?
Do you have any shame?
Did you sleep well that night?
Did you look at yourself in the mirror the next day?
You, who ignored the plea in a Mother’s eyes,
Go and tell her that her infants are peaceful in the gentle hands of a Vafa friend,
May she find peace, may she find peace.
Unfortunately, without a trace of sickness, one of them died in my arms on second day of the new year, in the second week another one, and on the fourteenth day two more of them closed their eyes to this world. What can I wish for their mother now? Still may she find peace?
Afsaneh Zarrin
