Iranian eyes
cannot sleep anymore
vigil in every nook and cranny
like a moonbeam flashlight
seeing a mosaic
flesh and blood
colour of hope and freedom
knowing
echoing
this moment is a sanctity
of fate
we hear your cry Iran
we shed your tears Iran
you have become
you belong.
(for Neda)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem