Babak Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Babak

I cry; feel ashamed.
You cruel, brutal
Stop it; it’s enough
It’s enough; enough-enough

Freedom Protector?
Peace loving; preserver?

Your hell deep; full of gifts
Hearts and lungs; Cairo’s Well
Heads crowned
Melting lead coming down
Sure; you sail on the blood

Dictators; pretenders
You carry picks, shovels
(Make tears; waves on waves)

Open eye; hear, see
If your guns let-permit

But tear; plains are waterless
Your machines killed, murdered; days and nights
Hear moms, holding child; dreaded days and nights
Hear sound of the kids, for bread days and night
Brutal; their water turned blood
You muddied every life
Locked, blocked.
See people folded, bent
Your crimes on their backs.

Turk author said it right:
“Oppressed lambs become wolves.”

Old you and tied to bed, grave
They’ll revenge of your child; to you howls
Everyone interprets: “Avenge” or “Hand of God”.

But not I; I warn you to wake up.
Look at me wear robe; white
Don’t force me to pick gun.