At the dinner party everyone <br />Held a glass of champagne or <br />White wine in their hand. <br /> <br />All in a row, the big guys came up <br />To shake my hand and greet me. <br />Some came to hear about my experiences, <br />How I came out alive <br />From the troglodyte's den. <br />Some came to get my autograph, <br />Some to look at me with wide-eyes admiration, <br />Some to kiss, some to offer flowers. <br /> <br />In the midst of all this <br />A girl with golden hair came up. <br />Not extending her hand. <br />Not wanting to hear my sad stories, <br />She said she had come <br />Just to weep with me for awhile. <br />And I felt that the entire Bramhaputra <br />Was rising in my eyes, eroding <br />The embankment of my heart. <br /> <br />I. from the east, <br />and she, from the west, <br />had pains that were equally deep. <br />I was dark, she a rosy white, <br />But our sorrows were equally blue. <br />Before we wept we did not have to <br />Hear about each others experiences. <br />We knew them too well.<br /><br />Taslima Nasrin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/girl-from-switzerland/
