The day will come when my sisters
No longer wear forced chadors.
Let that day be in summer
So that we can go for a picnic.
We will wrap the first chador as a bundle
And carry our goods in it.
We will spread the second as a carpet
And sit down on it.
We will use the third as a dining cloth
And eat our meals around it.
Then I will climb a mulberry tree
And my four unveiled sisters
Will each take a corner of the fourth chador
So that I can shake mulberries down on it.
How delicious it will be to eat mulberries
When my sisters no longer veil.
On that day, chadors return to chests
And when posterity asks about this rite
It finds only mothballed fabrics.
Copyright 2022 Majid Naficy
Majid Naficy is the author of many books in Persian and English including Father and Son (Red Hen Press, 2003.)