Farvahar Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Farvahar

Round my neck have pendent
-to me it, is talk of ancestors.

Every time I touch it, see mirror
-either talks or pokes a reminder.

"Gala gave you a gift; silver chain."
"Farvahar is yours and you purchased."

Behind my necklace lie stories
-of faith and logics and history.

Zoroaster has taught us to follow
-the three main topics closely
-think and talk and do "Good".

I wonder what went wrong with Iran
-if that was my faith and my belief.

Thinking good is serene and at peace.
Talking good is haven and relief.
Doing good is something that breeds.

I wonder what went wrong with Iran
-if that was my faith and my belief.

Must have been the leaders; corrupted.
Must have been the abuse of power.
Must have been some sort of oppression.

Yesterday, in my list to visit, met Syrus
-on his door Farvahar, large, golden
-his words were ferocious, full of hate
-every word that spoke, was dagger;
-to Zoroaster; of whom was no trace.

Maybe then, when fell the Sassanids
-the same was our Iran…full of hate;
-every heart turned filthy, un-sacred
-to father of fire where people did pray
-or to the Mada'in, as the Kasra's palace!