“The Martyr’s Song”

(To those who have died for freedom in Iran)

I was born screaming into this world
Wrenched from my mother’s womb.
That pain is now forgotten
But I shall die with dignity
Because it is your hand, Oppressor
Which annihilates me out of this world.

You who have made the law
Who stand above the law
We who are oppressed by it
Have no appeal except to expect
Death by your hands
Not of choice but by brute force.

How will you answer for the red rivers of blood,
Soiling the fair skin of mother Iran?
How will you look into your daughter’s eyes
When ours have been torn apart by rape and murder?
How will you teach conscience to your sons
When your hands are soiled with innocent blood.

I have no revenge, only the will to be remembered
I have no jihad but only prayers for my children
That they may be spared this war of conscience
And your ever present vengeance
That my widowed wife find solace that today
I will be in paradise

But I leave you with one thought,
That the vengeance of mother Iran
For the blood soaking her garments
Will come fast and furious
Unknown on a dark night
Then you will remember each of our names

The names of Sohrab, Neda,Taraneh and countless others
Then you will feel each blow
Each wound, each cut, each curse
For we shall return to see you cringe
To see your eyes widen with fear,
To hear your demented screams

And at that time you will know terror,a greater terror than mine
Then you will remember the dead children
The raped women, the orphans and widows
That is why I go contentedly to my death
Knowing my sacrifice will be remembered,
Knowing Iran’s freedom will come.



For Iran 2009
Land of a thousand whisper
Timeless
Caressed by the kisses of the sun
Made beautiful by the songs of the past
A glorious past
Now sullied by the shackles of bigotry and fear

How it shatters my soul to hear
The silent voices screaming for freedom
How it strangles my breathing agony into
Pain undefined
To see young womens’ lives stamped out
To listen to the silent wails from forbidding walls

Listen o you who drink at the fountain of freedom
Listen o you who wake up to sweet security
The silent screams of stifled voices
Listen to the voices of mothers
Weeping for dead sons stolen in the night
Lost to the dark embrace of closed minded men.

And the voices calling to us
Echo across the web
The news relays the call
Hear these voices
People across the world
Reach across the void

And lend your voice to the silent screams
To the silent dead, to mothers and fathers
Who call for their child, curse not death
But life itself.
And shout for the cause of the orphaned.
Those who call freedom, father and mother.

Listen and hear
Listen and mourn
The morning is dark and filled with
The thousands of voices
Calling, forever calling
In our sleep and in the hours of waking.