Ears Of Rock Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Once as child in class
I was shocked; one beaten, some cried

Our teacher a young man, sharp in look
In his hand he held box

School was in low town; on Shahbaz
Our parents mixed in Class

Students all shaved head
It was cold, he marched and started:

'I know of the orphans...'
We were kids; on our minds: 'And so what? '

Out of box he brought funny long black pipe
Silvered keys; and played

We smiled, even laughed, looked around
What he meant none could say...

'I know of the orphans...'
He asked us to repeat: 'I lost dad as a child.'

Decades gone; about six, I see now
I saw in Ottawa, I see it in Paris

He told us of Saadi's trainings
Now replaced with Modern

Hey Europe, Hey Nassy, you monkeys
You deserve what goes on

‘This hatred and dislike and murder'
We have sown; we harvest

We are dumb, stupid, in our shells
Rockets are our claims.