Vida
Came in call
-unknown was the caller
-but soon turned to friend…
He knew my name and
-asked me of my in-law
-sister's wife…
I listened
- "Can save her before…"
She had been hit in head
-by the mobs and with chain
-or stick, whatever…
Did not know that she too
-had been there, same place
-where we sat and listened
-to lectures, speeches…
-only to celebrate
-a teacher's birth or death…
Ali Shariati
-right or wrong -doubtlessly has done lot
-in the line of Islam!
He is worth knowing of
-we were there to respect
-and add to our knowledge.
Slowly crawled in the mobs who
-were dumb and supported government
-had huge motor bikes; forbidden for others.
They made noise
-roared engines of their bikes
-as is seen in movies
- (Peter Fonda and friends…)
-wilderness came, rushed in
-the deserts and forests...
So, we ran, stampede had victims
-stepped on, and beaten like the dogs
-among them had been the little Vida
- (Sister of my ex-wife.)
Shamloo was ex-sergeant
-I, sort of officer
-indirect connection
-he, Navy, me Air Force.
He knew the outcome:
- "Have order to report dead,
-wounded and injured…"
Then whispered:
-will take and bury them
-with dozers, mass-graves.
No marking with no name
-and no cause and no date…
I had seen example
-Spring of the year
-Nineteen and Sixty-Three.
Shamefully
-Iran is full of such
-regardless of the time
-and sort of government.
I lifted that soft girl
-promised to call and
-talk of her progress.
"Tell me if she vomits…"
Now, I write this reminder
-of the things remembered
-which is cause of exile
-and to thank the sergeant
-who risked life of himself
-for Vida, to be saved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem