هر موج نگاه و خنده ها زیبا است
از یار سخن لب شفا زیبا است
ای دوست چه عجب که بیوفا زیبا است
این عشق و حال مبتلا زیبا است

Brother Iran
by Michael R. Burch

Brother Iran, I feel your pain.
I feel it as when the Turk fled Spain.
As the Jew fled, too, that constricting span,
I feel your pain, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I know you are noble!
I too fear Hiroshima and Chernobyl.
But though my heart shudders, I have a plan,
and I know you are noble, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I salute your Poets!
your Mathematicians!, all your great Wits!
O, come join the earth’s great Caravan.
We’ll include your Poets, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I love your Verse!
Come take my hand now, let’s rehearse
the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
For I love your Verse, Brother Iran.

Bother Iran, civilization’s Flower!
How high flew your towers in man’s early hours!
Let us build them yet higher, for that’s my plan,
civilization’s first flower, Brother Iran.

Published by MahMag (translated into Farsi by Mahnaz Badihian), Other Voices International, Thanal Online (India), Deviant Art, Portal Vapasin (Farsi). Keywords/Tags: Iran, Iranian, Farsi, Persia, Persian, brotherhood, culture, civilization, poetry, literature, poets, mathematicians, philosophers

when i hear the words 'on fire'
i picture strikers scoring goals,
with skill and prowess to admire -
not self-immolating blue-clad girls

the game can be so cruel...
are you as free as you think you are?
your views and wishes can lead to ruin,
yet your beliefs will get you far

our never-ending dream of a world of equality,
no borders - within or without
some might say you're of inferior quality
but have they a clue about

your struggles, your hardships, your toil?..
your designs they shan't ever foil
your eyes and your heart, shining bright,
will burn right through the day and the night

be the spark and light the fire!
a revolution of love -
something to remember and admire
be the last one to have a laugh

Guns are all now silent,
The killings all been done,
The boys are coming home,
The war’s ended, but not for some,

The war to end all wars ended,
One hundred years ago,
The killings started over again,
No poppies in the meadow,

Civil war in Yemen,
The Saudis and Iran,
Russia starts an arms race,
Trump’s wall building plan,

Caravan from Honduras,
Fleeing death and repulsion,
Troops at the Mexican border,
With guns and no discussion,

Mothers fears and lovers tears,
Of family they’ll never see again,
Shootings at schools and bars,
Talk of gun control all in vain.

Nedā

You died in protest in Iran. Āghā-Soltān age 26. Your death caught on camera. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Sent around the world. Condemning the Iranian government led by the mad man Ahmadinejabd. Your fellow country people said they were called your name. We are Nedā. Your death was one of the most witnessed in history due to television and the internet.
Human Rights Watch said:
"She was a philosophy student who was a bystander to the protests when she was shot in the chest on Kargar Street. At the time of the shooting, Āghā-Soltān was not actively protesting, according to her relatives and eyewitnesses. She had been travelling in a private car stuck in traffic several kilometres from the main protests at Azadi Square, and had just stepped out of the car. Numerous witnesses have stated that there were no active clashes between protesters and security forces in the area where she was shot."
Your years of study over, stolen by an assassin's bullet. Unable to live your life, follow your dreams and contribute to life. But in death, you Nedā, won't be forgotten. You stand for freedom, life and against tyranny. Music was your love, you never did play your new piano. Stolen by that evil bullet allegedly fired by Abbās Kārgar Jāvid, member of the Basij militia. Symbolizing the people versus the government in the disputed election. Government authorities denied you a proper funeral and a ban on collective prayers after your ******, threatening your family if they mourned you. Evil actions by an evil government, like ****** or Stalin's evil way. Nothing but brutality. You Nedā are the opposite of that.