Gets 135 Lashes
In times I want scoop
Need to pull my eyes out
They hurt me when speak
By hitting on the walls
Of the cells; memories! ! !
Would I know blisters after whip?
Would I know its painting and design?
If had not seen with eyes?
In Qasr I saw a man:
Was he a Bahá'í?
Or was an Armenian?
Saw whipping in the yard
Therefore I raced around:
"Find me ice, please ice! ! ! "
Had worked in pharmacy
And knew medicines
Wanted to take some pain!
Of poor man…
"Brutal…brutal…"
I shouted and cried.
In charge was Hajj Agha!
I read that as fallen
Hajji is convicted to be
Whipped;
Hundred thirty five
What the hell! ?
What the hell! ?
On his back I can see
What I saw in Takhkhar
A warlord, an afghan
Had whipped his poor slave!
Help me to scoop eyes
I charge them as guilty
Why should they see for me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem