A desire for the pulse to drop,
In the cleft of a ruby; the fruit of Badakhshan ; and a crying face;
In the birth of eyelashes and the soft fabric of shivering dew,
To appear and to nestle between tresses
—Kamran Mir Hazar, from “A Bronzed Face And Tiny Purple Veins,” Poetry International: Afghanistan. Translation: 2010 , Johnny Cheung en Jan-Willem Anker.